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hunnywrites · 6 years ago

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Arcade Dreams: Chapter Three

Summary: There’s a new girl working at the Palace Arcade and Hawkins’ Family Video. Billy can’t stand her, and the feeling is mutual. No matter what everyone else seems to think.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove/OFC

It was Monday night. Teddi was bouncing back and forth between the video store and arcade. Some kid was having a birthday party and there were about fifteen eight year olds running around with icing smudged all over their faces. Keith definitely wasn’t going to be the one to handle them. The older kids harassed him, sure, but the little ones terrorized him. Teddi had lost count of how many times she’d seen the elementary kids throwing their shitty prizes at him from across the prize counter or blatantly ignored his pleas for them to stop running and acting like a bunch of “crackheads”. But she’d be lying if she said she didn’t find it a little funny.

So now she was busy following around a group of small children and wiping down the machines after their grimy little hands got cake and god only knows what else on the controls. “Teddi!” she turned to see who had called her, smiling at the two boys who were waving wildly at her from across the room. She made her way over, giving Lucas and Dustin each a high five.

“How’s it goin’ dudes? The crew’s not in tonight?” Mike, Will and the girl who she had learned was named El had been in all weekend, but she hadn’t seen Max in a few days, which was unusual. “Hey, is everything okay with Max? I haven’t seen her tagging along in awhile.”

Lucas made a face. “She got grounded. Two more days until she’s free. Will’s mom just came and picked him, Mike and El up though.” he explained, jabbing a thumb at the front door.

“Yeah, two more days until Lucas can see his girlfriend.” Dustin teased, poking his best friend in the side. Lucas slapped his hands away and muttered a “Shut up.”

Teddi laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Girlfriend? You can’t be dating, you guys are babies!” she couldn’t really be too surprised though. Anyone could see the puppy dog eyes Lucas and Max

had been flashing each other since she’d moved to Hawkins.

“Hey, hey! We’re men.” Dustin corrected her.

Lucas rolled his eyes, turning to Teddi. “So...can we?” He asked. Dustin perked up next to him. About a month ago, Dustin had found a way to trick the ticket counter into giving out more tickets. The gang had made a top secret mission out of it to keep the secret from Keith and the other kids at the arcade. But Teddi had been an important part in their scheme as long as she was willing.

“You know, you guys could always just save up your tickets. Try being patient.” she offered with an amused smile.

Lucas pulled a face. “Do you have any idea how long that would take? We’re halfway there! After tonight that bike is ours, and Christmas is next week. We’re on a deadline here, Teddi!” he reasoned. It was sweet really. There was this little white bicycle that had been hanging above the prize counter longer than she had been working there. The gang had all decided to pool their tickets together and give the bike to El for Christmas.

Teddi looked around the arcade and let out a heavy sigh. “Alright. You have twenty minutes until Keith gets back from his break. If anyone gives you shit just tell them you’re doing me a favor since I’m busy, okay? I gotta go check on things next door.” it was a risky move for the both of them to try and pull this off without the others, but Teddi knew they’d be able to pull it off.

“Yes!” they both cried. “Thank you, Teddi!” Dustin yelled before grabbing Lucas by the arm and pulling him along. Teddi shook her head, turning and heading back to the video store.

Things were quiet over there at least. There was a group of younger girls arguing over what movie to rent for the night and a kid begging with his parents to let him rent Friday the 13th. She decided to start going through the returns when the bell on the door rang and a small redhead ran in with a stack of tapes.

“Maxamillion!” Teddi greeted. While she liked all of Max’s friends, Teddi had a soft spot for her. She was sure that it was because she reminded Teddi so much of herself when she was her age. “I was just asking Lucas and Dustin about you, heard you got grounded.” She said with a teasing, stern look.

Max rolled her eyes and nodded, setting the tapes on the counter. “My mom totally shit a fit. And Billy’s been all pissy because he has to watch me. But these movies were awesome. He even liked them. And he hates everything.”

Teddi raised an eyebrow and looked down at the tapes Max was returning. Black Christmas, Alien, Sleepaway Camp and Carrie. “Wait, you’re Billy’s sister?” how hadn’t she put that together? Max had always said her brother was a dick, and Teddi didn’t know anyone in Hawkins who was a bigger dick than Billy.

“Step-sister.” Max corrected. And speak of the devil, in waltzed Billy himself with a cigarette between his lips and his shirt unbuttoned practically down to his belly button. Teddi scoffed loudly.

“There’s no smoking in here, Hargrove.” she said, her hands on her hips. Billy sauntered over, leaning against the counter and removing the cigarette from his lips before blowing a cloud of smoke in her face. She wanted to smack the smirk off his face.

“Bite me, Larsson,” he grinned. Teddi leaned forward and snatched the cigarette from his fingers, putting it out on the counter with an overly sweet smile. Max watched the exchange with an exhausted look. “...You’re a real bitch sometimes, you know that?” he muttered.

“Yeah? Well, in here you’re my bitch,” he glared at Max when she let out a snort. “You didn’t tell me that Max was your step-sister,” she said, changing the subject. “You’re totally not cool enough to be related to her in any way.” she teased.

Billy rolled his eyes. “Please. What do either of you know about being cool?”

Max gave him an unimpressed look. “She’s way cooler than you.”

“Jesus, will you shut up and get some new tapes already? I don’t wanna hear Susan bitch about how long we took.” Max let out an over dramatic sigh and ran off to find something new to watch for the night. Billy’s fingers were tapping rapidly on the counter, clearly desperate for another smoke.

“...Rough night?” Teddi asked. He seemed a bit more on edge than usual. Paranoid. Like at any second shit was going to hit the fan.

“Fuck off, Teddi.” he spat. She rolled her eyes, but held her hands up in defense before turning back to sort through the returned tapes. Billy rubbed the back of his neck, eyeing her nervously but didn’t say anything.

Soon Max returned with two new tapes, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Poltergeist. Teddi nodded approvingly. “Tobe Hooper, awesome choice. You know, he uses real dead bodies in both of these. They said the Poltergeist set was totally haunted. Makes it like...a million times scarier.” Teddi explained as she rang the movies up.

“Awesome.” Max grinned.

“How the fuck do you know all of this? You’re like a bottomless pit of useless information.” Billy grunted out, pulling his wallet out.

“I read, Billy. You should try it sometime. Five bucks,” she held out her hand. Billy glared at her and slapped the bills into her palm. “Hope you like ‘em, Max! They’re due back Thursday. See you at the pool tomorrow, Hargrove.” Max smiled at Teddi and happily ran out of the store while Billy stuck another cigarette between his lips.

He turned to leave, calling “See ya, weird girl.” over his shoulder before flipping Teddi off and stomping out once again.

Eventually Keith came back and reluctantly handed the bike over to Lucas and Dustin after they turned in their tickets. When he told Teddi she could leave early for the night, she practically jumped the counter. She grabbed her coat and bag and rushed outside, hissing as the cold air hit her bare legs. Summer can’t come fast enough, she thought as she rushed over to her car and got in, cranking up the heat. It was late, and Teddi was hoping that would mean her parents would be asleep by the time she got home.

Things had never been great between her and her parents. It had been the worst when she was little. Once her dad started making good money things eased up because he was never home, and she didn’t care very much if her mother ignored her or not. But now that money was thin Teddi could sense the storm coming. So to avoid it she tried her best to stay out of the house as often as possible.

Unfortunately for her, she noticed the lights were still on in the living room once she pulled into the driveway. She let out a heavy sigh, trudging in and hanging her coat up by the door. Her dad was asleep in the recliner with a beer bottle sitting between his legs. Her mother was nowhere to be seen.

Teddi grabbed the bottle and shut the TV off before gently shaking his shoulder. “Dad, wake up. It’s almost midnight.”

He groaned, blinking up at her and pulling away harshly. “Get the fuck off me,” he muttered before looking around and frowning. “Where have you been all day?”

“Work, dad.”

He scoffed. “Right, work. Laying out by the pool and playing video games all day.”

Teddi rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to argue. She wanted to shower and get in bed. If anything she was surprised he remembered where she worked. That was more than she ever expected from him.

“Don’t you fucking roll your eyes at me. Should you even be awake this late on a school night?”

Teddi headed down the hall. “It’s Christmas break,” She said simply before shutting her bedroom door. Teddi pulled off her boots, tossing them into her closet before plopping down on her bed. “Five more months,” she reminded herself quietly. “Five more months.” Once May rolled around she would graduate high school and finally be free of her parents. She didn’t know in what capacity yet, but she didn’t really care. Even if it meant sticking in Hawkins but living on her own. She just wanted out.

Once the living room light shut off and she heard her parent’s bedroom door shut, she grabbed clean pajamas and headed for the shower. The water was near scalding, but it did wonders to relieve her tense muscles. Unfortunately she found herself thinking about Billy.

Tomorrow she would be helping him teach one of the swim classes. Or watching and learning as he had put it. She couldn’t really picture him teaching little kids much of anything. Maybe how to smoke and swear at their parents, but definitely not swimming. He was too gruff. When he was up in that lifeguard seat he reigned with near terror. Just the day before he had made a six year old cry after he had called him a shitbird for splashing too much. At least she would be there to hopefully provide a more gentle touch to the lesson.

Things between her and Billy were...weird. One minute they were bickering, the next they pretended the other didn’t exist, then they would both be huddled together laughing at this one dad who liked to strut around in a speedo and hit on moms while his kid was in the pool. And this was just over the span of three days.

Teddi sighed loudly and willed herself to think of anything else. Soon Christmas break would be over and school would start back up at least. She could go back to being a friendly acquaintance to the kids in her classes and she’d get invited to parties on the weekend. Not that she’d go, but being invited was nice. And hopefully soon the months would fly by, she’d get accepted into a college and she could get far, far away from Hawkins. But until then she’d have to deal with Billy. Without killing him.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x oc

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sympathetichorror · 6 years ago

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OKAY i got a couple of responses so here’s the first chapter of my WIP tentatively titled “little stranger!”

i’d love comment/critiques but please be kind

[word count: 3,034]

Dad bought Mikey the Rickenbacker for his tenth birthday, back in ‘64. The Beatles had hit it big and Mikey had decided that he wanted to be a rockstar too, so without hesitation or any real kind of money in his pockets, Dad went down to a music shop in Austin and picked up the same kind of guitar that George Harrison wielded. At the time, Dad had given up hope on making Mikey into a sports star, so he decided to try to make him a rockstar. Rock music was masculine in Dad’s eyes, and if Mikey was a big man rock star who could pull in girls like those English boys did, even with their floppy hair, then the rumors about Mikey being light in the loafers couldn’t be true.

But Mikey, being Mikey, was over the rockstar dream by the time he unwrapped the guitar on his birthday, much to Dad’s ire and disappointment. The guitar got hung on the wall of abandoned dreams in the basement, alongside Mikey’s old baseball glove, football helmet, and cleats. I was only six at the time, but I used to sneak down in the basement all the time to steal glances at the mystical instrument, which hung just high enough to be out of my little reach, not that my fingers were big enough to do anything with it. By the time I grew tall enough to be able to take it off the wall, Dad gave in and let me have it.

He didn’t want me to have it at first because he didn’t see the guitar as a “ladylike” instrument, but once he realized that Mikey was never going to be the guy in the letterman with a beauty queen on his arm, he didn’t care anymore. An unladylike daughter was bad, but significantly less bad than a queer son. He already had a queer son, so what was the harm in letting me, the often ignored second child, be a little unladylike?

That guitar was the only thing I took with me when I went to New York to try to find Mikey. Well, I took some clothes and all the money I’d saved up babysitting, but nothing else besides those necessities and the guitar. I didn’t want anything else. I wanted to leave everything behind in Lampasas to die in the Texas heat - the bullying, the rumors, the cruelty, Mom’s bruises, Dad’s growing pile of empty beer cans, all of it.

Mom might not have been able to gather the guts to save herself, but I was determined not to let myself have the same fate as her. So at seventeen, fresh out of high school and full of teen angst, I took a bus up to New York City to try to find my brother, who’d disappeared into the concrete jungle four years ago, just after he got out of school.

It took a while, but I did manage to find Mikey, though he now went by the name Oscar and was nearly completely unrecognizable from the brother I’d once known. At the same time, he never looked more like himself, even if himself looked rather ridiculous in leather and feathers and unkempt hair. He was an artist now. He’d been fronting a band for the past couple of years, a band that was the even poorer man’s version of the New York Dolls, but he was having a ball nonetheless.

That was two years ago. Now, Oscar was deep in a heroin addiction, unable to do anything but turn tricks and shoot up. I was the breadwinner of our little fucked up household, bringing in the money for everything other than drugs. I was the artist now, though I wouldn’t know if I’d call myself that necessarily. I fronted my own little punk group and I did my own shit my own way, and that was all I’d say about myself.

“I’m heading out!” I called to Oscar through the bathroom door. “You good?”

“I’m good!” Oscar yelled back throatily.

There was no doubt that he was in there slumped over the toilet, either from being too doped up or not doped up enough. I didn’t know which it was and I didn’t really care. So long as he wasn’t dead as I was leaving, I didn’t care. I probably should care more about my brother and his current state of absolute drug addiction, but at this point, I couldn’t. I’d cared too much for too long, and I’d learned that if he didn’t care, I couldn’t care either.

With that, I threw my guitar over my back and headed out of our little shithole apartment. For a New York apartment on the budget we had, the place really wasn’t that bad - but rats and mold and pushers still filled the place. If only Ma knew where we were living...she’d probably keel over just hearing a description of it.

But Ma wasn’t here. She was back in Lampasas with her bruises and probably more broken bones at this point. I called her once in awhile to let her know that I was doing okay and that Mikey had yet to die. I didn’t bother to tell her that he’d changed his name and become nearly totally unrecognizable from the son she’d last seen almost four years ago now. She’d had enough heartbreak in her life thus far. I didn’t need to add to it. Besides, that was Oscar’s story to tell her, if he ever got the guts and decency to call home sometime. He never had, not even once, since moving to New York.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Lenny asked.

I glanced down at my watch, then looked up to my bandmate and said, “I’m five minutes late. It’s only five past eight; that’s hardly late at all.”

“Yeah, but you’re hardly ever late,” he reminded me, keeping up with my strides as we hit the Manhattan streets.

We were too broke to afford cabs unless we were buddies with the drivers, so we walked the city for the most part.

“Well maybe you should find something to do to occupy your time other than hanging out around my building waiting for me,” I suggested with a wink.

Lenny rolled his eyes, but laughed. “Hey, things have been rough since I got kicked out of Marcia’s place.”

“I can’t be sorry for you for that,” I said, tucking my hands into the pockets of my beat up leather jacket. “You’re the one who decided to fuck her best friend on the floor at her place...you kinda deserved that one.”

“Yeah, but I mean, I never told her that we were like, a thing,” he told me, trying to justify his actions. Seeing the serious side-eye I was giving him, he sighed and relented, “Still, I guess I coulda told her that we weren’t.”

“Exactly,” I said.

We walked in silence for a bit, only the sounds of the ever-rowdy city filling our ears.

“You still think I’m a piece of shit for that, don’t you?” Lenny pressed.

His expression was serious - he was genuinely concerned that he’d permanently tainted my opinion of him. Lenny was the one of the closest things I had to a best friend. That position used to be occupied by my brother, until he went and fucked himself all up. He was definitely my best guy friend and my favorite guy out of the three of them who played in my little “band” with me. We both had similar stupid senses of humor and not-so-secretly harbored major loves for David Bowie. Lenny said he was the only guy he’d go gay for, and I couldn’t fault him for that.

We’d went and seen Bowie with Iggy Pop and Blondie a couple of weeks ago at the Palladium, and Lenny had nearly shit himself out of excitement and arousal. I was just as excited, of course, but I had a much better poker face than he did.

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit, I think you did a really shitty thing,” I clarified. I gave him a small smile, seeing as he was still desperately waiting for my approval. “But that can be remedied...you can always learn from your actions. Just no more treating women like shit, right?”

“Right,” he nodded eagerly. “I won’t sleep around and I’ll--”

“You can sleep around,” I interjected. Seeing his surprised expression, I added, “As long as you’re being safe about it and you’re telling girls that they shouldn’t get their hopes up, that is.”

“Right,” Lenny said again. “Will do, Kathy.”

“Good,” I said. “The last thing the city needs is another misogynistic asshole in a band.”

That got him to laugh, which I was glad. I laughed alongside him as we rounded the corner to go into the back entrance of CBGB’s, the one reserved for the ‘artists’ that would grace their stage. We were one of those groups that got to use the door, though we weren’t big names like the people we opened for. Then again, in the grand scheme of things, we weren’t even that big.

“Jesus Christ, Kathy, don’t you have better clothes to wear than those in the middle of winter?” questioned Terry G., one of the bouncers/security guys. He was far beefier than he was brainy - I doubted he even had the brains to play ‘Blitzkrieg Bop’ - but he was a nice guy nonetheless.

“Naw, I’m fine,” I told him with a polite smile.

“Your lips are turning blue,” he informed me. “And your cheeks are all chapped.”

He was right, but I brushed him off, repeating myself, “I’m fine, really. A little cold never bothered me.”

Lie. That was a big fat lie. The thing I hated the most about New York was the cold. I loved the cool autumns, the mild springs, and even the sticky city summers, but the frigid winters were the one thing that made me miss Texas.

“Well, either way, you guys should get inside,” Terry G. said. “The other two Black Eyes are in there waiting for you.”

“Thanks,” Lenny said, speaking for the two of us as we hopped the couple of stairs into the building.

By the other two Black Eyes, Terry G. meant the other two guys that played in our little band, Phil and Keith. Phil was on the bass, Keith was on second guitar, Lenny was on the drums, and I was on guitar and vocal duties. We were quite an odd foursome, having come together after our stints in other bands didn’t work out. Phil was hanging onto the New York Dolls look with his platforms, scarves, and eyeliner, while Keith dressed more like an accountant, in button downs and ill-fitting blazers. Lenny was the one who went the most wild with his punk style, loving the safety pin and spikes look, enjoying sticking up his hair with loads of Aquanet, and always working on bettering his impression of Johnny Thunders with that lip curl thing.

I, the lone female in the band, was also the most boring looking, except for my Kool Aid red hair. I’d cut it all off when I moved to New York, and now that it was long enough to graze my shoulders again, I’d decided to go a little crazy with the dye. I didn’t love it, but I didn’t hate it either, so we were working with it. Lenny and the guys were insistent that I keep it for a while - they said it was good for our image, that it made me stick out, which was exactly the reason that I kind of, sort of hated it.

“I always thought it’d be a cold day in hell when the two of you showed up after the two of us,” Phil joked as we entered the green room. He had a cigarette dangling from his teeth and bright blue glitter accentuating his eyes.

“It is like negative ten out,” I informed him dryly. “So that might have something to do with it.”

It was March, almost April. It shouldn’t have been this fucking cold still, but it was, and I hated the cold more and more each day.

“Haha,” Phil deadpanned. “Funny.”

“Are my drums all set up already?” Lenny asked. He helped himself to one of the beers in the cooler in the corner of the room, downing half of it in on impressive swig.

“Yeah, Keith and I took care of ‘em,” Phil nodded. We kept our spare equipment at Phil and Keith’s place, since they were the only ones with any space to put all of it. “We’re just waiting for someone to tell us it’s time to go out there and do the damn thing...unless you wanna do a quick soundcheck?”

The question was rhetorical, and he knew that. I shook my head to verify, though. I wasn’t one for soundchecks. That was too much effort, and unnecessary effort when playing at a place like CBGB’s. The louder and fuzzier, the better, or so I’d found.

“Hello hello, shiners,” came an all too familiar voice.

Before I knew it, I was being squashed in a hug by Ray. Every time I saw him I was shocked by how tall he was, more than a foot taller than me, to be specific. I should’ve been used to it by now, after everything, but I wasn’t. I lingered in his arms for a moment, taking note of his old familiar scent that I still loved - Camels, Pabst, and a dash of that cologne I couldn’t remember the name of.

“Hey, thanks again for asking us to open for you,” I said as he released me from the hug.

He pressed a light kiss to the top of my head before completely separating himself from me, something he still did everytime we saw each other, despite having been broken up for four months and some odd days. I’d been keeping track of the days for some time without really meaning to, but I quit when Lenny told me I should forget about it and try to move on to a new dick.

“Of course,” Ray said. He grinned down at me, his dark eyes glassy. He must’ve shot up not too long ago. “If I can’t have you playing with me, I’ll have you open for me, anytime, gladly.”

“Thanks,” I said. Glancing to Phil and Lenny, I said, “We all really appreciate it.”

That was true. Ray’s band, Raymond Garbage and the Trash Junkies, always pulled a big crowd. Their crowds were the good kind too - the people who really loved the punk scene for what it was, not the posers who crept it to check out what the whole ‘punk’ thing was all about. Ray and the guys were good, but their sound wasn’t the kind of sound the punk inspectors came to see, nor were we. Those curious spectators came for the Ramones or Blondie, not the Trash Junkies and the Black Eyes.

“‘Course,” Ray assured us, but mostly me. “Someday I’ll be opening for you guys.”

“I doubt it,” I said. “But that’s a nice sentiment.”

“It’ll happen,” Ray said. He flashed me that charming smile of his that’d won me over, rubbing at his eye. “Excuse me, shiners, I’ve gotta hit the little boys’ room before you go on.”

With that, he made his exit, much to my disappointment. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish that Ray and I were still together. I didn’t know if I loved him anymore in a romantic kind of sense, but I missed him. Sure, I saw him all the time and in reality we were closer than ever, albeit in a platonic way, but I still missed what we had. I missed waking up in his bed with my head on his chest and his fingers in my hair, and how we stayed up all night talking about Nietzsche or reading Vonnegut novels to each other.

“We need to get you fucked by someone,” Phil said, breaking the silence left in Ray’s wake.

“I’ve been getting fucked by plenty of people,” I said.

That was true. Since breaking up with Ray, I’d become just as promiscuous as anyone out here on the Bowery. Well, maybe not just as promiscuous. I refused anyone who refused a condom, which ended half of my encounters before they could ever happen. Still, I’d shared a bed with more people - mostly men, a couple of women - than I bothered to keep track of. A few weeks ago, I truly realized that the promiscuity thing just wasn’t for me. I was a monogamist at heart, and I’d learned that the hard way. I hadn’t stopped sleeping around, though. Once you got in the cycle, it was hard to get out of it.

“Clearly it hasn’t been good, though,” Phil replied. “Or else you wouldn’t keep on staring at Ray like he’s some sort of messiah.”

“She doesn’t wanna get fucked, she wants a nice guy to settle down with,” Keith chimed in, emerging into the room. His gray tartan blazer was so oversized that it was bordering on ridiculous. He stopped and thought about it for a moment, and said, “No, maybe you don’t want to settle down now, but you get what I mean.”

“What I need is to not date for a while,” I sighed. I flipped my guitar so it hung around me the right way, absentmindedly fingering out my arpeggios.

“Amen to that, babe,” Phil said, holding his bottle of gin up to me in praise.

He, Keith, and Lenny all took long gulps of their drinks. Lenny finished his entire beer, slamming the can into the wall. I was the only one not drinking, per usual. I was damn near being a teetotaler, something I got a lot of loving shit for around here.

“Black Eyes, you’re up,” said one of the CBGB employees, ducking their head into the room. “And just a heads up - you’ve got a bit of an unruly crowd out there tonight.”

#personal #iwrite #finally updating my writing tag on here!#be kind i love kathy but i appreciate constructive criticism!

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joongie-smiles · 6 years ago

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A Place to Call Home

Hello, wonderful readers! So this is something a little different from my usual one-shots, This is just some stuff about Keith. I had started thinking about the relationship between Shiro Keith and Adam and thought it would be something like this. By the way, I didn’t know if Adam had a last name (canon or otherwise) only that his initial was W, so i just picked a random Arabic last name because. If any of my Arab readers (hope I don’t offend with an umbrella term) have any suggestions for Adam’s last name, please let me know!

When he was a kid, Keith was never really into superheroes. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them--he thought most of them were interesting, like Captain America and Iron Man--but he never felt the need to buy everything with their faces plastered on it or fawn over the latest comic book issue. He never had unbridled adoration for these fictional superheroes. Instead, all his awe went to the real life superhero in his life--his dad.

For as long as 7 year old Keith could remember, his father had always been a superhero. He didn’t have cool super powers like Spiderman, but he saved people every day. He was strong, courageous, brave, and the best dad a kid could ever ask for. His dad had been a firefighter long before Keith was born, and he would tell him all the stories of his adventures. His dad worked pretty much all day, but he always made an effort to spend time with him. When his dad finally deemed him old enough, Keith would tag along and stay at the fire department. He spent most of the day coloring in the coloring books the rest of the crew gave him or simply running around the station. He would often steal his dad’s helmet and done it proudly as he stood on the table and proudly told the firefighters around him that one day he would be a firefighter and save people just like his dad. His bold statement would be accompanied with a round of cheers and jubilant laughter. Most of his days were spent like that: with laughter and joy and the simple delight of being with his dad.

His dad was a real life superhero, and while it was glorious at times, it was also devastating. Even as a kid, Keith understood that those nights when his dad came back all patched up and looking beat, that meant it had been a bad day. He understood that when he limped around their small apartment and winced, it was from more than just the physical pain. He understood that when his dad hugged him tightly and told him that he loved Keith in that wobbly, tearful tone, it meant that they had lost someone in the fire. He understood that October 30 was a day of mourning for the Koganes, and he knew that when his dad started tossing and turning at night calling out for ‘Krolia’, he should just lie at his side and hold him close. He understood that when he opened the door that dreadful night to a policeman with a pained expression that something bad had happened. And he understood by just looking at the firemen around the police officer and hearing their soft, pained “we’re so sorry, Keith” that his dad wasn’t coming home.

After that, Keith stopped believing in superheroes all together. He had no time to fantasize about heroes and adventures, he had to focus on where he was going to stay. He had no relatives willing to take him in, and no matter how hard the crew fought to keep him, the lawyer assigned to Keith thought it would be best from him to go into the system and find a stable family instead of getting raised by a “village” as she’d put it. He fought the decision, and even threatened to run away, but in the end, he boarded the first train out of Houston and to some orphanage in Oklahoma. The first couple of months he tried to behave and fit in, he really did, but no one else seemed to be making the same effort. The older kids were forever mad at the world, and the younger ones were focused on taking care of themselves more than others. After all, there was no point in making connections when all you wanted to do was get out of there.

Keith soon discovered how mean children could be. Whether they pointed out his “weird looking” eyes or rudely imitated him when he spoke Korean, they always seemed to find something odd to point out about Keith. The incessant teasing soon turned into rough shoves and harsh glares. After the first month or so of such treatment, Keith was fed up with it all. In the cloak of night, he ran away from the orphanage and bought a ticket back to Texas with some money he had stolen from the orphanage’s owner. Honestly, Keith had no idea what he was doing, all he knew was that he had to get out of that place. He knew he didn’t have family in Texas anymore, but the orphanage wasn’t any better. He was a smart kid, he could figure out what to do once he got there. Looking back, Keith realized that what he did was dumb, and he was glad that a pair of policemen found him and stopped him from boarding the train to Texas. The lawyer assigned to Keith’s case agreed to transfer him to another orphanage, but only if he didn’t run away again. Keith agreed, and in no time, he moved up to Oklahoma City. This time, he lasted almost 5 months before he became restless and itched to leave. A family had been interested in adopting him, but Keith refused. He wasn’t ready to be a part of a new family, and he felt like accepting their offer was like he was replacing his father, and he would never, ever do that. He ended up running away again, and as a result, he was transferred to a new orphanage. The same thing happened again and again; he would go to an orphanage, get in fights, run away, then be sent to a new one and the cycle would repeat. He hoped from orphanage to orphanage, from family to family, never quite finding a place where he belonged. For years, it seemed that he just didn’t belong anywhere. It wasn’t until his 12th birthday that he had a little hope for happiness.

At the orphanage he was staying at for the time being, they allowed you to pick a place to spend your birthday as long as it was within their ability to take you there. Most kids wanted to go to the movie theater or a skating rink, but Keith wasn’t really interested in anything in , particular. Earlier that day, he’d seen a poster advertising the opening of the galaxy branch at their local museum, so when he was asked where he wanted to go, he chose to go to the museum on a whim. Though their caretaker was surprised by his answer. She agreed and took Keith and the rest of the kids to the museum. Once there, they were allowed to run wild. Most of them paired up and went to look at the dinosaur exhibits, but Keith decided to stay on his own and go to the new galaxy exhibit.

To put it in simple words, it was breathtaking. The room was dark, and there was a pattern of stars painted on every wall. Constellations littered the ceiling, peeking out behind the large planets that hung from the wall. The sun hung right above the entrance and glowed faintly with yellow light which pulsed every now and then to imitate a dancing sunspot. From there, the inner planets followed. Mercury was a mild grey one minute, but it jumped to life with swirls of gold and blue that ran across the surface of the planet, swift as the Roman god it had been named after. Venus hung large and proud, glowing with the light of a thousand fires, its beauty unmatched by the others. Beside it hund Earth. It was about the same size, but the contrast of colors--one dark red, the other blue and green--made it stand out beside the vain planet. The white clouds moved lazily across the face of the blue and green planet, and they twisted to and fro like a group of gymnasts tracing the path of the winds. The last inner planet, Mars, was a furious red that reminded Keith of a time long ago and stories of heroic firefighters saving the day. His lips quirked up slightly at the thought.

Following the inner planets, a ring of meteorites hung across the exhibit. The shape of the space rocks varied from pebble sized to boulder sized. They were lined up neatly and meticulously and stood firmly in place, like a line of soldiers holding back enemy intruders. Behind the army of asteroids was the outer planets. The outer planets were much larger than the inner planets, and their moons surrounded them. Jupiter, the biggest planet in our solar system, hung low enough that when Keith stood right under it, he could vaguely see all the wires and lights hid behind the thin, sand colored cloth. It looked calm and peaceful for the most part, but in intervals of 10 minutes, a raging storm blew across the surface of the grand planet, bringing with it the rage and power associated with the Roman god of lightning. Where Jupiter was large and intimidating, Saturn was all elegance and grace. The yellow planet’s large rings shined delicately as if they had been constructed with ice from space itself. Though the circumference was impressive, the rings were barely thicker than a stack of papers. Next, to Saturn hung Uranus, the planet with the infamous funny name. For all the giggles it caused, the planet itself was beautiful. Its surface was painted with a dusty baby blue shone softly and paler than the elegant Saturn before it and the glorious Neptune after it. Neptune was a shade of blue Keith had never seen. It was bold and attracted the attention of anyone who walked by it. It proudly hung at the end of the solar system, and its radiance seemed to rival the sun’s. After Neptune, where Pluto should have been, was an entrance to a smaller room inside the exhibit. The sign above the entrance proudly deemed it “A Journey Through Space” and encouraged him to take a pair of 3D glasses. He did just what the sign suggested and walked in to experience space. Like the rest of the exhibit, the room was dimly lit, and stars littered the walls and ceiling. But here, meteors drifted by, and shooting stars zipped through space. Everything was much closer and the occasional space fact popped up on one of the walls. He didn’t mind the interruption, in fact, he thought the fascinating facts added to the experience. Unfortunately, the trip through space ended, but he had been rewarded with a thin book about space and a pin that identified him as a space cadet.

Eventually, his birthday and the trip to the museum came to an end, but Keith wasn’t sad. On the contrary, he was happier than he’d ever been in years. He no would no longer have to deal with the constant search for a place to call home, he now knew where he belonged. He belonged in space. He decided that he’d work hard and do everything that he could to go to space and become a real life space cadet. It didn’t matter if he didn’t feel at home in any of these orphanages or cities, they were just stepping stones for his goal, his future. Keith looked at the back of the pin and smiled down at the name inscribed in it. Galaxy Garrison. That’s where his home would be. There, at the Galaxy Garrison, he would find his place.

Keith worked hard to get into the Garrison. He took every advanced class offered at his high school, worked on his anger issues, and had read every book on space and piloting that he could find. When application season came, he busted his butt on them and spent weeks perfecting his essays and recommendations. After his application was submitted, he would rush to the mailbox every morning and searched through the mail for the familiar grey and orange G. It wasn’t until early spring that he received his reply. When Keith spotted the Garrison’s insignia, he grabbed the letter and ran to his room. He paced restlessly back and forth, holding the letter tightly to his chest. He was afraid of opening it. What if they were rejecting him? What if he hadn’t won any of their scholarships? What if--

He stopped and stared at the picture on his bedside of him and his dad. That picture and the dark-hilted knife his father always had were the only things he had left from his dad. He tried to rarely think about his dad so as to not get sad, but on this rare occasion, he did. He sat down on his bed and looked at the picture. His dad was beaming back at him, and his words whispered softly in his mind. You can do anything as long as you believe in yourself. With a shaky sigh, Keith carefully opened the letter and read the printer words: Keith Kogane, we are happy to inform you that you have been accepted to the Galaxy Garrison and are the fortunate recipient of a full-ride scholarship. Congratulations.

That was the first time since his dad died that he’d cried from joy.

When he met Takashi Shirogane, he was convinced that he’d met a superhero for the second time in his life. Junior Officer Takashi Shirogane wasn’t a teacher at the Garrison, he was an exploration pilot, but he would often poke his head in during pilot training. He was well known around the Garrison for being the best pilot of his time. Everyone looked up to him, and Keith was no exception. He was determined to be just as good of a pilot, if not better, than the famous exploration pilot. And if his simulation scores were anything to go off of, he was well on his way to being the best pilot of his generation. Keith knew that he was an amazing pilot, but he tried not to let it get to his head. He still stayed up late to study for exams and spent hours doing his homework just like everyone else. Whenever the flight simulator was open for practice, Keith would spend hours practicing and perfecting his technique. He continued to stay at the top of his class and people started to notice.

“Space is the boundless three-dimensional extent in which objects and events have relative position and direction. Physical space is often conceived in three linear dimensions, although modern physicists usually consider it--” A knock on the door interrupted Mr. Wahim’s lecture. He turned to look through the little window in the door and scowled when he saw who it was. “Oh for goodness sakes,” he mumbled. “Class, read pages 100 to 120 from your book tomorrow and take clear notes. Make sure you understand the lesson because we will be taking a quiz on it.” He ignored the groans that followed and walked over to the door. He opened it just enough to poke his head through to talk with the person on the other side. Unlike his classmates, Keith ignored his teacher’s conversation and focused on reading the lesson assigned to them. The theory of the black hole was one of the most difficult things to study let alone understand, so he was determined not to waste any precious work time Mr. Wahim gave him. He was about to start the theory of general relativity when the curious hushed whispers became excited exclamations. Keith looked up to see what his classmates were so excited about and almost let out a cry of surprise of his own when he saw who was standing beside Mr. Wahim.

Takashi Shirogane smiled back at the classroom full of awe-struck teenagers. “I’m sorry to interrupt the class, but I just came by to talk with Mr. Wahim.”

“Even though Mr. Shirogane knows perfectly well that I have a class in session,” Mr. Wahim reprimanded him, but there was no real harshness behind his words.

Mr. Shirogane’s smile turned sheepish. Mr. Wahim relented and waved at his awe-struck students. “The bell rings in 30 seconds, go ahead and pack up your things. Don’t forget the assignment.” The class rushed to collect their things and went back to whispering excitedly.

“What do you think they have to talk about?”

“I don’t know but there probably won’t be talking at all. Didn’t you hear that they’re dating?”

“Wow, if Mr. Wahim let the class out 30 seconds before the bell for him then they must be.”

Keith ignored the gossip and collected his things. Next he had lunch, so he’d head to the library and get some homework done. Maybe if he finished early he might be able to get a couple practice hours in.

“Keith, can you stay back for a minute?” Mr. Wahim called out to him.

There was a low chorus of “ooh”s, and Keith rolled his eyes at his classmates immature response. He stepped away from the door and made his way to Mr. Wahim’s desk. Once the rest of his classmates had filed out the door, it was Mr. Shirogane who spoke first, much to Keith’s surprise. “So you’re the one who is trying to beat my record.”

Keith blinked, dumbfounded. “What?”

From beside him, Mr. Wahim scoffed. “I told you not to start like that. You’ll intimidate the poor kid.”

Mr. Shirogane rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Right, I forgot.” He cleared his throat and stuck his hand out for Keith to shake. “Sorry, let me start over. Hi, I’m Takashi Shirogane. I’m a pilot for the Garrison, and I think you have some pretty impressive skills.”

“What?” Keith repeated. Apparently when faced with his idol all he could say was that cursed one letter word. It was embarrassing.

Mr. Shirogane seemed to find his response endearing. “You’re doing really well in your classes and you’re way ahead of you classmates. You are an impressive cadet, and I just wanted to let you know that if you ever want a training buddy or maybe some flying tips, I’m here.”

Finally, Keith could get enough control to respond. “Wait, isn’t that favoritism.”

“Well, yes, but if we say that you asked for the help and I’m simply mentoring you, then there shouldn’t be a problem. Anyway, every teacher has a favorite,” Mr. Shirogane admitted.

“That is true,” Mr. Wahim confirmed from his desk. He was grading the class’ solar system test. He motioned towards a large pile of papers. “They, for instance, are not my favorites.” He held up a small stack of 4 papers. “These are my favorites.”

Keith was tempted to ask if he was one of the four. “I appreciate the offer, but why me?”

“Like I said, you have the making of an amazing pilot,” Mr. Shirogane said. “Plus,” he added. “You remind me of myself when I was your age. Determined, ambitious--”

“--reckless, easily irritable,” Mr. Wahim added.

He ignored his comment. “So, what do you say?”

Keith didn’t have to think about it for too long. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Mr. Shirogane.”

The older pilot smiled. “Call me Shiro.”

Ever since then, Keith started spending more time with Shiro, and consequently Mr. Wahim--or Adam as he insisted Keith call him. Usually, they worked on Keith’s piloting and hand to hand and weapons combat. Keith had known that he was a good pilot and a good fighter, but beside Shiro, he was the opposite. He grilled flight plans and maneuvers into his head and pushed him to his limits. Though Keith had always worked hard in his classes, they had never required him to push himself, but training with Shiro did. Surprisingly enough, there was no real backlash to their afterhours training, in fact, the commanders seemed to encourage it. What better way to improve than to train with someone willing to share their knowledge and skill. In the beginning, some of his classmates were bitter towards Keith, but they quickly took this as a challenge to improve and become better themselves. Some even found junior officers or teachers to serve as their mentors.

Aside from the training, Keith spent time with Shiro just to hang out with him. He learned that despite his spotless record, Shiro could be more than a little reckless. One day after training, Keith and Shiro were sitting on a dune overlooking the endless sand surrounding the Garrison.

“Have you ever flown outside of the simulator before?” Shiro asked him.

“No,” Keith replied. “Apparently we’re not ready to fly yet.”

“Do you think you’re ready?” Shiro asked.

“Yes,” he immediately said.

“Good because this would have been a waste if you didn’t.” Shiro stood up and walked towards a pile of rocks nearby.

“What do you mean--” Keith was cut off by a low rumbling sound coming from behind the rocks. He frowned and ran to see what was causing the noise. When he rounded the boulders, he stopped in surprise and gaped in awe. There, standing before him, were two gliders. They were small, intended to be for only one person, and if the light scratches and worn down paint was anything to go off of, they were certainly not new. The Garrison’s insignia was stamped on the hull of each glider.

“They old gliders the Garrison used to use for pilot training, They’ve got some new, updated versions, so they don’t need them. I offered to take a pair off their hands,” Shiro explained.

“Wow,” Keith whispered softly. He walked over and touched the side of one of the gliders. The metal was cold under his fingertips, and he could feel the rough patches where the whipping sand had eroded the metal. The glider seemed to purr softly in response to his touch.

“So, Keith, ready to go on your first flight?” Shiro asked.

In response, Keith hopped into the small cockpit. Shiro laughed at his enthusiasm and climbed into the other glider. “All right, the controls are the same as the ones in the simulator, but it might take you some time to get used to them, so take it slow at first and they’re kind of old so--”

Keith made quick work of the control and zoomed forward. He cheered in delight. He flew past the sandy dunes and thin desert plants. He flew higher and grinned as the desert and the night sky alike became simple blurs of light. As he pushed forward and tore through the sky, he felt free. All his life, he’d been running away from his past and his present, and now, here flying through the night with no worries but the road ahead of him, he felt like he was running towards something. What it was, he couldn’t tell, but he did know that he never wanted to stop feeling like this.

Apparently, the universe had a different plan.

The glider gave a couple of jerks and started to slow down. Keith frowned and pushed on the controls, but it only seemed to make the glider stall more. He barely had enough to veer out of a boulder’s way before the glider skid to an abrupt, bumpy halt. Thankfully, the glider was equipped for sliding on the desert sand, so there wasn’t much damage done to either Keith or the glider itself. Keith popped open the overhead door and climbed out of the glider. Dark smoke started coming from the glider, so Keith stepped back. They had learned that black smoke wasn’t too bad of a sign and there wasn’t any immediate threat of the glider blowing up, but the sight of the billowing smoke made his heart squeeze. He knew that there was no danger, that there were no flames, but his skin got hotter and his breathing became labored. Images played across his mind: the firestation, a burning building he’d never seen but imagined so clearly, his dad. His dad. His vision became blurry, and he almost missed the second glider landing gracefully beside him. The smoke crowded his vision, and the only indication of someone else’s presence was the comforting arms that wrapped around his small frame.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Shiro whispered soothingly. “I’m right here, okay? Your safe. Just breathe, breathe with me.”

It took a couple more minutes for the shaking to stop and a couple after that for the tears to stop. Keith leaned against Shiro and breathed with him. He allowed himself to just exist in the peace of the moment, and found comfort in the still night sky and Shiro’s comforting words. Eventually, Keith pulled away. “Sorry,” he said softly.

Shiro smiled softly. “Don’t worry about it. I can always get a new glider. Next time, just take it easy, these things are pretty old.” They both knew that he wasn’t talking about the glider, but Keith appreciated.

Shiro nodded in the direction of the Garrison. “Come on, let’s head home. You’ve got homework to do, and Adam will get mad if we stay up to late.”

Keith nodded and walked alongside him. Home, he thought with a smile. Maybe, just maybe, he had found his home.

Keith stuffed his books into his bag and made his way out of the library. Next week, he had exams coming up, and he had been spending all the time he could studying in the library. He would have done it at the apartment, but he thought Adam and Shiro deserved some them time. They hadn’t had any date nights and Adam was getting a little grumpy about it.

As he made his way out of the library, he passed by two cadets who had their heads craned over a large textbook. He vaguely recognized them from his class. Hunk and Taylor? Something like that. They were pretty talented cadets too, and they worked really hard. They were practically attached at the hip and Keith had never seen one without the other. He sighed and pulled his bag closer. It would be nice to have friends like that, it would make this day a little better. Maybe he would talk to them one day.

Keith made a stop at Adam’s classroom, but was surprised to find it empty. He was usually in here till 4 and it was barely 3. He shrugged it off and walked to the post. The post office was by the staff’s lounge and was where any mail for commanders and teachers was kept. The woman behind the desk barely spared him a look when he went over to Shiro and Adam’s boxes. The couple often sent him to do little errands like get the mail, so they were used to seeing him around. After picking up the mail, he walked to Shiro and Adam’s shared apartment. Keith had never officially moved in with them, it had just happened. Keith was over so much that Adam eventually gave their spare room to Keith. Even though he technically had a dorm room, Keith stayed over at the apartment, He wasn’t sure if he could consider it his home yet, so he just took to referring to it as “the apartment”.

Once he arrived, Keith placed his hand to the glass panel to open the door, but instead of opening, the panel glowed red with the words “access denied” glaring at him. Keith frowned and tried again. The door stayed closed He double checked to make sure that it was the right apartment. When he confirmed that it was, he stepped up to the door and tried the old fashioned way. He rapped his knuckles against the metal door. “Hey! It’s me, Keith. The panel’s acting up and it won’t let me in,” he called.

He was met with a couple minutes of silence before a quick “coming!” answered.

Keith stepped back and waited. There were a few beeps and a click, and the door slid open. Adam smiled at him. “Hey. sorry, must have accidently manuely locked it.” He stepped back to allow Keith to go inside. “Let’s go the the kitchen, Keith!” Adam insisting, raising his voice.

Keith frowned at the man. “Um . . . okay?” He followed Adam to the kitchen. As they go closer to the kitchen, Keith caught a faint whiff of something sweet. “Hey, why does it smell like--”

“Happy Birthday, Keith!” Adam and Shiro cheered in unison once they entered the kitchen. In Shiro’s hands was a hazardously frosted cake with a single lit candle. The words ‘Happy Birthday, Keef!’ were written in Adam’s elegant handwriting in red frosting.

Keith blinked. He was at a loss for words. He didn’t even know that Adam and Shiro knew what this day meant to him.

“You don’t like it,” Shiro concluding. He lowered the cake and his smile seemed to drop with it.

“No!” Keith hurried to exclaim. “It’s not that, I just . . . didn’t expect it. I didn’t even know you guys knew.”

“We didn’t until yesterday,” Adam admitted. “I was updating my student’s records and I noticed your birthday.”

“You hadn’t mentioned anything, so we thought it would be nice to make a surprise for you,” Shiro said.

Keith starred at the couple. Shiro was nervously standing behind the counter surrounded with what must have been some of Adam’s best cooking, and Adam stood beside him with a hand on his shoulder. They had planned all of this and done this all last minute just for him? He knew how busy they both were and the fact that they took the time to make something for his birthday made a smile break out on Keith’s face. “Thanks,” he said.

Adam and Shiro’s smiles matched his and they quickly went about setting the table for dinner. Keith insisted on helping, but Adam shooed him away and told him to wash up for dinner. Keith smiled and went to the sink to wash his hands. As they ate, they made idle chit chat about their days, Shiro’s missions, Adam’s classes, and Keith’s upcoming exams/ Shiro promised to help Keith study, but only if he stopped staying up too late. Keith couldn’t seem to stop smiling, not that he wanted to. He honestly couldn’t remember a birthday as amazing as this one. After his dad died, Keith usually spent his birthdays alone, so he had stopped celebrating them all together. But now, here he was, surrounded by people he wholeheartedly believed loved and cared about him. He couldn’t be happier.

Shiro collected the plates and took them back to the kitchen. When he returned, he was carrying a thin, rectangular present. “It’s not much,” Shiro admitted, “but we hope you like it.”

Keith took the present from Shiro’s outstretched hands and opened the wrapping paper carefully. Inside, there was something more valuable to Keith than anything anyone other than his father had ever given him. Inside, there was a red picture frame with a picture of Adam, Shiro, and Keith. It had been Adam and Shiro’s anniversary and they had invited Keith to go outside the base with them. Keith had insisted on staying, saying that it was their anniversary and that they should spend it together. They had laughed at his response, and insisted that they should spend the day together as a family. That had been the first time they had called their little trio a family, and Keith had cried. At the sight of his tears, Shiro had panicked and Adam hurried to apologize. Keith had only smiled and told them that he’d be ready in a couple minutes. In the photo, Shiro had one arm around Adam and the other was ruffling Keith’s hair. Adam’s hand rested on Keith’s shoulder, and all three of them were beaming. In black, elegant cursive the word ‘family’ was written along the bottom length of the frame.

Keith stared down at the picture and was silent for a moment. He looked up at Adam and Shiro’s smiling faces and he knew he was done searching for a home. He had the perfect on right in front of him.

#voltron #keith kogane #shiro #takashi shirogane #adam

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imaginethoughts · 7 years ago

Text

asexual headcanons - paladins

My darling anon asked: Headcanons for how the paladins would react to finding out their S/O is asexual. I’m genuinely worried about admitting it to someone I’m in a relationship with so this would be very comforting, thanks❤️

Don’t be worried love, keep your head up. There’s nothing to be ashamed of and if this person truly loves you for you, they’ll understand. I’m not very informed about this topic so it’s going to be a little short. I’m sorry if it comes off wrong so please feel free to correct me in anything but I’ll certainly try my best. I hope you enjoy, sweetness.

Asks are closed ♡

Keith

When you tell Keith he is very confused

He might not be very informed about it because he doesn’t know the extent of what it means

Like he knows about the different sexualities but he’s not very informed

He’s from a very closed off part of Texas

When you walk him through it he will listen to everything carefully

When you guys are alone he’ll make sure you don’t feel like you have to do anything beyond what you’re comfortable with

Despite his hotheadedness and impulsiveness, he’s a very sweet boy and wants to take care of you and love you no matter what

Shiro

Space dad, is really space dad <3

He’s cool with it so his reaction not might be big

Maybe a warm smile to let you know that it’s alright, it doesn’t change the fact that he is very much in love with you

Shiro knows how to hold himself back fairly well so you won’t have to keep reminding him you don’t want things to go any further

Cuddling and doing fun activities are just as fun as any sort of sexual act

and a little less exhausting

Lance

I think Lance might have a little hard time with finding out

he’s a teenage boy and most teenage boys think a lot about fulfilling their sexual fantasies

That’s alright, he has his best friend, the hand

Ultimately though he’ll still love you and will go on as if nothing happened

But he’ll also needs constant reminders because he likes getting frisky

And he’ll always comply because his mother raised him to be a gentleman and respect his baby’s wishes

It’ll take time for him to get accustomed but he’s a pro in adapting

So he says

Hunk

Bless this boy really

Hunk had an intuition that you might be asexual but he never asked because he didn’t know if it would be rude of him to do so

He’d just pick up on the little things really

So when you admitted that you were, it was kind of a relief for him to know the truth cause he was always curious

“I’m asexual...meaning like I don’t have any...sexual desires or...anything”

“I know, pumpkin”

HE IS SO SWEET, HE’LL CONTINUE TO COOK WHAT HE WAS COOKING <3

Pidge

“By the way, I’m asexual”

“Join the club”

Honestly Pidge doesn’t care because she’s like “same af”

7/14/18

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queenangst · 7 years ago

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these old bones

by: achieving elysium summary: He’s always been fascinated with dinosaurs. Keith isn’t entirely sure why—maybe it’s because their footprints are still here, even after so long. Maybe he’s hearing the echoes of history calling for him. Maybe, just maybe, it’s because he sees himself in those old bones.

A Keith character study told in three parts. Originally written for the Aphelion zine. (@aphelionzine)

other notes: this is a fic near and dear to my heart. it was what made me really love keith as a character. also, shiro & keith in this fic is completely platonic, as that relationship is v important to me. you may ship them if you wish, but keep in mind my original intent. i hope you love this. read it on: AO3 | ffnet

Keith is told he's born an autumn child on the cusp of winter, when frost creeps around the corner but the leaves are still painted red.

As he sits outside the principal's office, kicking his legs back and forth, the light on the floor is a fire-orange. Keith rubs his knuckles, picking at the dino-covered band-aid, and listens.

Voices drift through the closed door.

"—don't think this is the right place for him. And Keith has behavioral issues—"

"Keith needs an environment where—"

"This is not where he belongs. Do you see him? That boy is a forest fire. He's burning everything in his path."

He stares at his knuckles, and his mouth tastes suddenly like ash.

This is not where he belongs. There's no place for him here, and the thought makes his blood burn. His knuckles itch; it's the same prickling that causes him to pick fights.

Three months later, someone hands him a letter from the Garrison, a thousand miles away from where he lives.

Dear cadet,

We are pleased to accept you amongst our ranks at the Garrison Academy for Future Explorers. You and your family—

—At this, Keith laughs—

— should take immense pride in your achievements. The Garrison faculty, students, administration, and mission teams welcome you into our community. Our establishment has been built on a strong foundation, following in the paths paved by those before us.

You are invited to join the upcoming year's class, a diverse and well-rounded group of individuals. They will become not only your classmates, but future team members in space-bound explorations.

On behalf of those at the Garrison, I extend my congratulations—

Keith doesn't need to read more. He scans the letter one more time, just to make sure it's real, and then folds it up again with shaking hands.

"I'm going to the Garrison," he says, and his voice sounds strange to his own ears. Keith swallows, then says it louder. "I'm going to the Garrison."

It is everything he expects and more. None of it seems real — taking train after train from Texas all the way to Nevada, sitting with his knees pressed against his chest as the world passes by, and then arriving in the middle of the desert, duffel bag by his side.

The air tastes like dust.

It tastes like dust, and distant rain, and the vague promise of a different life. Keith licks his lips, picks up his duffle bag, and walks in.

It's different at the Garrison. Keith rooms with another kid for a while, some guy he can't quite remember the face of. He doesn't last long. They never do.

So the Garrison figures something else out.

Keith manages to convince them to let him sleep in a dorm alone. He doesn't have to stare at the ceiling at night and listen to a roommate breathe, doesn't have to worry about making small talk, doesn't have to know that there's a what-if sharing his space. He doesn't know exactly how, but he pulls a few strings. Orphan. Behavioral issues. Asks, and asks, and asks, until they let him have it.

The scholarship is only as good as Keith.

Piloting comes to him naturally. He imagines being in space. Loves it. Soars far, far above the people who want to leave him behind and the things that chain him to the ground.

The rest doesn't go well.

Like every other place, Keith gets into fights. It doesn't matter with who or what about, but he carries an anger in him that refuses to go away. From his bones and lungs and blood.

"Look, kid," Iverson tells him. "I don't care how good you are at flying. You're here because we want you here. Don't stop making us want you."

He bites his lip, rubbing at the bruises he's sure are forming under the thick uniform.

"Okay," he says, but he wants to tell Iverson about the way people look at him. The way he looks at people.

"You have to work hard to belong here," Iverson tells him as a closing statement and shuts the door in his face.

Keith turns and stalks back towards his room. He's not brave enough to say that belonging isn't a word he knows well.

It's Shiro who changes things.

Takashi Shirogane, the Garrison legend. Keith knows him, and envies him, and strives to be like him.

He's a star — a sun of sorts — and people seem to be caught in his orbit, circling around him. Keith signs up for the mentoring program, designed for students and staff – not particularly because he wants to, but because there's a thirst to be at the top – and winds up with Shiro as his mentor.

When he sees Shiro, he calls it a coincidence, then a mistake, then a blessing.

"Hey," Shiro says, standing up and extending his hand. "You must be Keith."

Keith takes his hand warily, and they shake.

"It's nice to meet you," he mumbles.

"Shiro."

"Shiro," Keith repeats, tilting his head so their eyes meet. In Shiro's, he thinks he can see himself. Older — and maybe a bit different, but there's a spark of the flame that Keith carries.

It's the start of a friendship, even if Keith doesn't know it yet.

The first time Shiro calls him brother, it's on the roof of the Garrison late at night long after curfew. They both know it, and Keith is surprised to find Shiro breaking the rules.

"You're my brother," Shiro says, still staring at his sky. His hand finds Keith's, somehow, and their pinkies twist together in a promise. "I'm not leaving you behind. I'm going to come back to you."

"Shiro," Keith whispers, because he doesn't know what else to say. "Shiro."

This is what family feels like, he realizes. This warmth, their hands, the way Shiro looks at him from the corner of his eyes. This, the brightness he seems to carry in his chest after meeting Shiro; this, the promise; this, knowing they will find each other again, no matter how much space separates them.

"Here," Shiro says, rolling onto his side and propping himself up with his arm. With the other, he rummages around in the pocket of his uniform, searching. "I got you something."

His brows furrow.

"For what?"

"I… need you to keep it for me," Shiro tells him.

"Really," Keith says, because there's something in Shiro's voice that tells him it's more than that.

"You can give it back when we return from Kerberos," Shiro says. He finally finds what he's looking for and holds his hand out in a closed fist.

Keith opens his hand, and Shiro presses something into his palm. It's cold, and Keith can tell it's metal by the feeling of it on his skin.

"A charm," Keith says, dangling it from his fingers so he can look at it. It's a small thing, probably a little bigger than a quarter. At first, Keith thinks it's a 'V' until he looks closer and finds the curving lines that dance across the surface.

Wings. A pair of wings spread in flight, reminiscent of the pin over Shiro's heart and a silvery-gold in color. In the center is a circle — Earth, he realizes.

Shiro holds up a matching one and smiles.

"I'll think of you up there," he says, tilting his head towards the sky, moonlight tracing his features.

Keith wraps his hand around it and clutches it to his chest.

"Thank you," he says, and Shiro meets his eyes. "For the charm, and for teaching me how to fly."

Shiro smiles again, and this one is softer at the edges — almost sad, though Keith doesn't know why.

"You already knew how," he says softly, and Keith believes him.

And then Shiro disappears.

He doesn't come back like he promised. He's not dead. Keith knows it, knows it, and it leads to fight after fight, black eyes and bruises that are nothing against the rawness in his chest.

Flight is different, now. He finds himself faltering more times than he can count, and his grades plummet after him. Before they can kick him out, before he can be sent off to a family that won't fit together right, he leaves.

Keith spends the year exploring. Healing. He finds an abandoned shack and fills it with his things, pieces of his past that look more like a museum exhibit than a home.

The desert is quiet. He likes it.

On the quietest nights, Keith tacks up sticky notes, the same way Shiro used to about Kerberos. They aren't about piloting or the view of Earth from so far away. Instead, Keith writes sort-of letters to Shiro.

Wherever you are, I hope you're not too disappointed in me.

Went to the Garrison today for a supply run. Snuck through the halls and thought of you the entire time.

Where are you?

I wouldn't have let you go if I'd known it meant I'd lose you.

… It's killing me when you're away.

There's no one to talk to but himself, so Keith spins himself stories that are half-buried in truth. He makes up histories for the caves he explores, the things he finds: a broken spearhead, a piece of a clay pot, the strange markings on a cave wall. Keith throws himself into studying them. There's something otherworldly about the caves, a spark of something ethereal.

It's the same feeling he used to get as a kid, back when his dad was around. They'd explore together, Dad telling him stories of digs and peculiar finds, little pockets of history.

When he was younger, he'd marveled at the way light fell through the caverns, at how the ghosts of the past seemed to come to life when he was there. The pounding of feet against rock mirrored his heartbeat.

The lion markings make him feel like he's wading through time.

There's a thread that seems to connect everything: Kerberos' crash, the caves, Keith.

He's fitting the pieces together slowly, but he's still missing a few of the puzzle. Keith can't quite make out the bigger picture, and it frustrates him to no end.

Even a year after Shiro's disappearance, he can't figure it out. He's reading through his notes one night when a shift in the light from his window makes him go outside.

Something stirs in him.

Look, the ground whispers, and dust billows about his ankles. It teaches him to listen, tells him to stand still, so Keith does.

The earth hesitates, and Keith sinks into it. He becomes dirt and wind and star, tastes the storm on the horizon, and that's when he knows something's coming.

Keith stands on the old, creaky porch of his little shack and shields his eyes with his hand. The hoverbike keys dangle by his face, metal cool against his cheek, and out of the corner of his eye, Keith sees the little charm Shiro gave him.

I'm going to come back to you.

And then something falls from the sky.

He doesn't hesitate. Keith swings onto his hoverbike and chases after the falling star, his blood calling for him to follow it.

It burns in the sky, a deep red that reminds him, strangely enough, of lions. Curiosity sparks and scorches his chest, and he pushes his hoverbike as fast as it will go.

Keith tears up the cliff, climbing higher and higher so they'll meet in the sky. There's the flight and the fall; he's not sure who is doing what.

The engine rumbles when he slows, absentmindedly stopping it and stumbling off, eyes fixed on the meteor. Around him, the walls of stone sing. Their song is cautious and thready, and Keith weaves it between his fingers as he reaches for the sky.

There's a warning in the air.

The comet is beautiful. He imagines himself falling beside it, caught in the tail of flame. Imagines wrapping his body around it, imagines what it must feel like to hold a star, to hold a piece of the future and call it history. Imagines a burning in his chest, imagines a hole forming where his heart is.

Keith lifts his head higher, and his bones sigh.

Maybe they know something he doesn't. His body is a thousand years old, made of the same cosmic dust as the dinosaurs from long ago.

"What do you know?" he whispers, following the ridges of his knuckles and leveling them so they line up with the mountainous shapes around him. "What do you see?"

The dinosaurs.

History, his bones say. History, history. History repeats itself.

Keith swallows ash and tastes it in his lungs every time he breathes.

History, he thinks, and he wonders if this is how the dinosaurs felt. If they looked at the sky, at the falling comet, unaware of what would come next. If they felt wonder and fear, anticipation and dread. All of them make his heart pound; they are all too similar in their effects, and Keith revels in it all.

He watches the comet fall and fall and fall. When he closes his eyes, the light burns against his eyelids.

This, he thinks. This is an end, perhaps, and it is a beginning.

ii.

If Keith is being honest, there isn't much he misses about Earth.

There's not much to his name— and he doesn't have much, either. If Keith closes his eyes, he can picture the desert shack he'd only just begun to call home when they'd left.

The creaking floors. The caved-in couch, worn from use. The makeshift coffee table, the cracked walls, a few plastic, glow-in-the-dark stars he'd stuck on the ceiling.

Keith sticks his hands in his pockets and tries to bring himself down to Earth; his lips twist in a sort-of smile. What irony.

The door is silent as it slides out of his way, and Keith passes through without much thought. The cool air is a relief from the stuffy Castle, and he walks out. Farther and farther, until the bridge under his feet gives way to dirt and grass.

Not Earth, he thinks.

Keith isn't sure why he feels so torn about it. Being out here amongst the stars, being a part of Voltron — all of it feels so right, somehow. And it's a place where he can belong. And Shiro's here.

"I'm… happy here," he says to no one. The words sound empty.

There's nothing for him on Earth—

Well.

He's only kept a handful of things from his childhood. A drawerful of miscellaneous bits and pieces: a picture of his father; a skateboard key-chain; some stickers. On the shelf is a book he's read a thousand times. Draped over his shoulders is a jacket that doesn't fit quite right but one he still wears anyway.

He doesn't miss any of them.

Keith turns his thoughts to summers spent hiking, to dust-covered hands and the little, broken fossils he'd dig up and keep like treasures.

He's always been fascinated with dinosaurs. Keith isn't entirely sure why — maybe it's because their footprints are still here, even after so long, or maybe he's hearing the echoes of history calling for him, or maybe it's because he sees himself in those old bones.

It's still not the same, of course. He doesn't miss Earth the same way Lance misses Earth: longing for his family, for a big house by the sea he calls home, for rainstorms and thunder. He doesn't miss Earth the same way Shiro does, through a string of distant memories and imaginings. He's not like Hunk, burning in his desire to create something that will remind him of home, a mother's loving hugs, always humming a song under his breath Keith will never be able to understand. Pidge, the way she longs for her mom in a way that Allura cannot replicate, the security of family, the promise of sunrise and sundown and tomorrow.

There's a rumbling sound; a shadow crawls over him, and Red lowers her head to the ground. He strides forward without a thought, and she opens her maw, letting him climb into the cockpit.

"Hello, Red," he says quietly.

She doesn't speak in words, not really, but he feels the welcome.

"Want to go for a late night flight?" he asks, and she purrs her agreement. Keith smiles. He's meant for her; they fit together easily.

Though Keith usually likes to test his skills and soar between the different obstacles Arus has to offer, he takes it slow today. He doesn't know why, but he thinks it might be because of the thoughts that brought him outside in the first place. Red indulges him, bending to his will.

She almost makes him forget Earth. Almost.

It's hard not to, with Red flying with the stars he'd always longed to be with. But there's still the lingering feeling that he's missing something, even if that something isn't what he'd call home.

"I don't know why," he says aloud as they descend, pressing as close to the ground as they dare. Keith stares at the mountainous forms, and a want grips his insides.

Red hums.

Her words trickle through slowly, like sand through a sieve, leaving only the important parts behind. Pottery shards, and precious stones, and little bits he stuffs in his pockets.

You belong here.

Keith worries at his lip.

"Yeah," he agrees. "I guess."

Her mind brushes against his, vast as the sky. It's a questioning thought, and Keith shrugs.

"I feel like there's something I'm missing," he says. "Something that you can't give me."

He soothes her with his love for flight, but underneath is a roiling kaleidoscope of emotions.

They pass an outcropping that looks exactly like his view from the window of his shack, and Keith banks upward, twisting away from it and climbing into the sky.

"Fly," he tells himself, and they go higher and higher to leave the ground behind. "Fly."

"Voltron," he murmurs when they've reached the clouds. "I like it here. I have a purpose now, don't I? And a team to stand with. And—"

And what? What else is there for him?

Keith doesn't know.

There's a sudden burning from his eyes, and Keith presses his trembling lips together. The tears don't stop, though, so Keith rubs at them furiously with a hand. The rough fabric of his gloves chafe against his skin, but he appreciates the feeling.

Red circles around him, and he swallows against the lump in his throat.

"Please," he whispers, but he doesn't know what he's pleading for.

A sob builds in him, forces his shoulders to shudder under its weight and a soft sound from his mouth.

He feels like he's running his hands down his ribs, counting them until one of them goes missing. Like he's missing something vital that he's never noticed before, a strange gap he wants filled.

Is this how Shiro feels? Does he reach for his arm the way Keith hunts for a home that doesn't exist?

Shiro will never get his arm back. It's been replaced by something other, maybe for better, maybe for worse.

Maybe Keith's thought of home is the same.

Keith pins his jacket sleeve under his fingers and uses it to wipe the last of his tears from his eyes. His face feels hot and sticky, and his glove and sleeve are both damp, but he feels better.

Red purrs comfortingly in his mind. He absentminded pats the chair arm, and then sinks back, letting loose a long breath.

"Okay," he croaks. "Okay."

Okay.

When she senses he's ready, Red begins a slow ascent again.

They dance in the clouds above Arus. These ones don't speak to him like Earth's do, but Keith brings in the storm, thunder crackling in his ears.

From so high, Arus has patches of land and water that look exactly like the satellite photos of Earth they'd been shown at the Garrison. He ghosts his fingers along the window's glass and traces continents and oceans, calls them names they're not.

Suddenly, Keith wants desperately to go back to Earth, if only for a moment. It calls to him, tugging with a thread he hadn't known existed.

Maybe he does miss Earth after all. iii.

He doesn't know what to do.

Keith splits his life into two parts. There's the before Voltron, and then there's after. He is human; he is Galra. He has his feet planted on Earth, but his roots float in space.

His life is a terrible, beautiful mess, and Keith returns to Earth a hero. Tragedy follows in his footsteps, hiding in his shadows, and bleeds red.

The ground under his feet crunches as he climbs, the dirt clinging to his boots both familiar and foreign at the same time. He doesn't know where he belongs anymore, and he's almost forgotten what Earth looks like.

Keith.

The dry wind carries his name, steals it from his lips and sings it to anyone who will listen.

"Keith," he says, because that's all he has left. There are no aliens he has to defend, no armor left to don, and no place to protect except here.

Earth. Here. His chest has been replaced with the spinning needle of a compass, turning in circle after circle as he searches for home.

Rock crumbles underneath him, and Keith yells, sliding until he hits ground again. He groans, half-expecting to look up to see the Galra waiting for him, friends behind him, but there's nothing in sight.

Keith clambers to his feet, dusting off his jacket and sighing.

He wants Red here. There's almost nothing he wants more than for his Lion to appear, gleaming in the midday sun from the skies. She'd land in front of him, bold and beautiful, and she'd say hello.

"Hello, Red," he says to the skies, and he wonders if she can hear him through what's left of their connection.

Team Voltron's time is over — well, his team, anyway. The five of them chose to return to Earth, to shed their armor like snakeskin and step back into their old lives.

It's strange.

Back then, when they'd been saying their goodbyes, Keith hadn't thought of where he'd end up. None of them had. Slipping back into a normal life wasn't something any of them could do — and for Keith, he found himself lost.

He's come back someone far different than he was before. This Keith is harder around the edges. This Keith still has bloodstains on his hands, has nightmares that keep him up in the soft early light, has seen places Earth's scientists had only dreamed of.

This Keith... this Keith has a family, now.

He feels his lips turn upwards into a grin. Strange, indeed.

The trek to his shack is shorter than he remembers. His route is a little different, but he makes it, chest tight from exertion.

It's still there, even after all this time. Untouched by others, left here for him to come back to.

Keith almost doesn't want to go in. He feels like the shack is from a different era completely.

Like so many other parts of his life, it has become a memory, a relic, the ruins of something that Keith once found solace in. It almost feels sacred.

The floorboards creak when he steps up to the front, pulling out his keys, and he unlocks the door with shaky hands. It swings in silently, and the inside beckons.

Keith swallows. On his things is a thin layer of grey dust, and now, Keith is sure he shouldn't be here. He's disturbed an old place that doesn't want to be touched.

When did his life change?

Keith squints at his little room and then crosses to the windows so he can pull down the drapes. Dust flies everywhere in thick, billowing clouds, and he covers his face with his sleeve and coughs.

"Ugh," he says when everything's settled and his lungs feel clear again.

Even in the light, things look different. Keith crosses his arms, but he can't seem to chase away the feeling that every part of the life he was so used to is gone now.

He crosses to the drawer and pulls it out. There's the picture frame of his father. Keith picks it up and observes it.

His father is grinning at the camera. There's a streak of dirt across his forehead, but he doesn't seem to care. In his arms is a younger Keith, so small and much more innocent; he is laughing, eyes bright as he looks up at the man holding him.

Keith wonders where his father is now.

Does he think of this picture? Does he remember this bright fragment of time, a brief moment captured forever to be kept long after he's left?

Keith sets it down on the tabletop. There's no anger in his heart, only a pain that has been eased by those who love him.

"Hey, Dad," Keith says, and he pauses, thinking of the trial that led him to his heritage. "Uh. It's been a while, I guess."

He runs over all the things in his head he wants to say. That he misses his father, but not much. That he's found a family not bound by blood, that he's carved a life for himself with the knife he'd been given, that he's back on Earth and left, again, with nothing.

"I missed it here," he says instead, and Keith draws the dagger from his side to hold up in the light. "On Earth, I mean. I didn't think I ever would, but I did."

He smiles wryly. Keith runs a finger along the sharp edge of the blade, and there's a slight sting as he's cut. He watches the blood pool under the knife and then looks at his reflection.

Dark eyes stare back at him — his mother's.

This blade belongs to you by blood.

"I'm Galra," Keith says, then adds, "well, half-Galra. You probably knew that, but…"

He taps the knife against the glass of the picture frame.

"I've always been human," he finally says, but those aren't quite the right words.

He never has enough words for what he wants to say. Instead, Keith picks out his hoverbike keys from the drawer and tucks the picture back where it belongs.

The drawer closes with a soft click. He looks at it for a moment, and then he leaves it behind.

The hoverbike is still shut away in the little storage space next to the shack. Keith shoves the doors open and tugs it out, his arms burning.

His keys clink together, and Keith's attention is drawn to the little charm on his keys. He can't help the smile that spreads across his face when he sees the wings; Keith pulls his phone from his pocket, checks for service, and then texts Shiro.

I have something of yours.

Then he climbs onto his hoverbike and flies.

It's not the same as flying in Red — there will never be anything like the Lions.

It will be a long time before he will hear a Lion's purr again, a long time before he will be brave enough to fly in a ship he knows cannot measure up to Red.

But this is different. Keith tears across the desert, heading for the one place he'd promised he wouldn't ever go back to.

The Garrison looms in the distance, the straight lines of the buildings clean against its surroundings. Keith stops a while away from it.

It's fitting, he thinks, looking at the place where the Galran escape pod had landed. The ship is gone, of course, but his memories are still there.

His younger self would have disagreed, but Keith feels right to come back here. He perches on the seat of his hoverbike, letting the wind tousle his hair like a fond hand.

"This is where it all started," he says, and in his mind's eye, he sees Voltron.

He sees Shiro, their head, the brave and fearless leader; Pidge, his fellow arm, defiant and brighter than any star; Lance, the right leg, selfless and funny, even if Keith will never admit it out loud; Hunk, the left leg, their support, full of warmth and a touch of steel.

They've parted and gone their separate ways, but Keith knows they haven't really left each other.

He's tempted to show his face at the Garrison and see what Iverson will think of him, but he turns his hoverbike and heads east instead. Keith follows a route he now knows by heart, deep into the caves where the Blue Lion waited patiently for her paladin.

The markings are still the same. Unlike with Lance, they don't respond to Keith's touch. He presses his palm against the rough rock and follows them deeper and deeper, using the small flashlight on his key ring to light up his path.

There's a steady dripping sound, and Keith steps into a pool of water. The sound echoes through the cave, and he stops.

Peace settles in him slowly, a thick blanket to keep out the cold. Keith savors the warmth of it, the honeyed sweetness, the light.

The compass in his chest spins. Slows. Hesitates before it stops to face true north.

Maybe he will never be able to find himself the way he found Voltron. Maybe he, too, will be forgotten by time, and his bones will rest beneath the earth. Maybe, if he closes his eyes, he already has.

Here, at last, Keith belongs.

Here, he thinks he might be home.

#my fanfic #my vld #vld #vld fanfic #voltron legendary defender #keith #keith kogane #shiro #takashi shirogane #voltron #please please please read and support this fic if you like it #it really is extremely important to me #it's ALSO why i used to be @dinokeiths #it means so much it means sO much #it is the best fic i've ever written #friendsheith #please be kind <3 #as promised this is part of my one fic a week goal

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thelonghairedone · 7 years ago

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voltron livebloging season 6 edition (ep 1+2)

I have temporarily blacklisted various voltron related tags to avoid spoilers, lets hope it is enough. Like most of my dash is currently full of said blacklisted posts that i will avoid until i finish this in a few days.

So we start with meeting Lotor’s nanny....er governess. I like her design and Lotor’s expressions in regards to her, they are pretty funny. Hunk asks the question that hadn’t been brought up but really should have “what the hell does ‘vrept sa’ actually mean? And gets to have galra cultural lessons. Worldbuilding yay!

As I thought it looks like galra society already had a military bent long before becoming an evil empire. I mean that makes sense given Zarkon thought that a helmet was an appropriate gift to give a baby. Also Sendak’s breakaway group’s name is hilariously edgy and ridiculous. And a jab at Lotor of course (ie mentioning blood purity)

Uh Lotor, bit worried about you putting the safety of you subjects lower than working on the quintessance project. Think you may have picked up bad habits from your mom. And speaking of her....

Looks like the Haggar-Shiro mind connection works both ways. Haggar is going to Oriande to mess shit up, I am so excited. Looks like Sendak “I know your weakness” line was intended for voltron in general and not Shiro. Damn misleading trailers. Hunk gets to shine and whip everybody into shape, I am proud. This is why back during the earlier seasons when Shiro disapeared and there was the lion switch, i thought Hunk would have been the next best person to lead.

Shiro keeps on getting hit with the visions, poor guy :(

Hunk does not want to duel to death, which is understandable, though the information regarding galra culture is important to know when you are trying to involve yourself in dimplomacy with them

Haggar comes out of the mystical land reverting back to her Altean appearance, interesting and onimous. I am eagerly awaiting to see what shit Haggar fucks up

Part of the next episode involves this Lotor-Allura-Lance love triange thing which I won’t discuss much because I don’t really have any interest in either Lotura or Allurance. Lotor and Allura’s height difference is hilarious. I liked Pidge and Hunk’s teasing especially how it was Hunk that was playing the part of Allura and Pidge Lotor. And Pidge dipping Hunk. The mice were cute. Thats pretty much all I have to say about that plot

Krolia’s and Keith’s interaction takes where it left off. Snorted a bit at Keith’s “how do you know i am your son for sure?” part. Keith, she knows because you look like a tiny male version of her, that how. Krolia cuts off any further questions to focus on the mission which Keith agrees to because the two of them are very simmilar

Love the scenery of the weird ass gravitation sucking time-warping place. Kudos to the animators, illustrations and desginers of this. It looks wonderful. They lose their ship. Also did Keith just say “fuck!” when they lost the ship or did i misshear that?

Convient memory showing white light shows us Keith’s parents backstory and also a worrying vision of Shiro with purple eyes (full on possesion is coming up I know it). Keith’s dad has an amusing southern accent. We still don’t know his name so fandom will have to continue call him Texas Kogane I guess. Like the fandom guessed, the whole blue lion thing had to due with how Krolia ended up on earth. And managed to save earth from galra invasion by keeping the discovery hidden. I feel a bit robbed that there isn’t a height diffence between Krolia and Dad Kogane. Come on. Also Yoruk is a name from one of the older versions of voltron isn’t it? Sounds familar

Baby Keith is cute. Krolia pulls another fake surrender. Love how badass she is. And the encounter convinces her that she needs to leave to keep the empire away from scouting out earth again.

So Keith’s dad is dead. And Krolia gets to find that out just now by seeing Keith’s memory at his dads gravesite. OUCH. Little-Keith is so cute and sad :( :(

So Voltron gets to introduce their version of space whales which somewhat remind me of the lionturtles from ATLA. If these whales also end up saving the day later on in a duex ex machina I am going to laugh so hard. Only those who keep up with both Star Wars Rebels and Voltron will get what I am refering to here, sorry.

They get onto one of the spacewhale and then we get so see a space dog/wolf which is pretty much what i kept focusing on for the remainder of the episode. Its so cute! I love it! I wonder what Keith named it? Its such a good doggo :D :D

Wait two years? Is that with the whole “how are we sure you are the real Keith?” because Keith has aged 2 years while i am betting it wasn’t as long as that for the rest of the guys due to time fuckery in the weird zone he and his mom are in? Though once you are out of puberty i don’t think there is a dramatic difference in aging in two years. So hm.....

And it looks like they went back in time to Altea. Interesting.

Please Voltron creators don’t make Keith lose his mom or his dog. The preview clip we saw of Keith days ago, had him not looking very happy looking and it is making me worried.

#I love Keith's new teleporting doggo #so cute #:D #space dogs!#space whales #the voltron kind not the swr kind #There is some shit going down involving Haggar soon and I am ready for it #Her apearence now is going to make it harder for Lotor to continue to deny their relation #in which i get distracted by the apearance of cute animals very easily #voltron #vld #voltron spoilers #voltron season 6 #vld spoilers #voltron liveblogging #vld liveblogging #Shit continues to happen to Shiro and it is likely to get even worse

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spacegaysinc-blog · 8 years ago

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Space Christmas™

look we know its july we just have a lot of feelings ok

ok so everyone’s always talking about how much Lance misses his big family and whatnot, but how would that carry across to a holiday like Christmas?

like, forget about missing just his siblings and parents what about the massive extended family? also (we’re not trying to shove beliefs onto a character or upset anyone in general please don’t yell at me) A LOT of people are religious and quite a few more practice exclusively on holidays like Christmas or Easter.

plus, even if Lance wasn’t strictly religious there’s something about being raised in a family that is that ingrains bits and pieces of those things into you just as a byproduct of being raised that way.

either way you can’t tell me that Lance’s family didn’t celebrate Christmas and since he has younger siblings it would still be a big deal since they would still believe in Santa.

so it gets to the point that Lance is spending the nighttimes heartbroken thinking about the presents he had planned for his little siblings that he won’t be able to give them this year because he’s an amazing sibling like that, or wishing for just one day, THIS day, that he could be back with his family, because anyone who has gone from spending Christmas with a big family to spending it almost alone know that it’s one of the loneliest feelings on the world.

Pidge’s family is kind of a mixed situation

like her dad’s jewish so they just decided as a family to celebrate both Christmas and Hannukah

the holidays weren’t really at the front of Pidge’s mind when the ‘winter months’ rolled around

because FIRST OF ALL it looked NOTHING like winter normally did (bc space),

and anyway for the past couple years she and her mother had grown apart and holidays were hardly the first thing anyone would think of when a family falls apart like that,

but she’s the one that notices Lance disappearing more and stumbles upon him crying twice as many times as she normally would, so she figures something’s up.

it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that they have reached what would be on Earth the month of December and to link that a little further to Christmas.

now Pidge understands a lot, but humans have never been her strongest suit so she does what any reasonable person would do and goes to Hunk and lets him take the wheel on what to do. Pidge does what she can to help (she’s probs the one that makes the cool decorations)

she misses her small, intimate family Christmases and it was trying to get that family back that brought her here in the first place, but along the way the team has kinda become her family too so why not embrace that for a little while?

Pidge makes a metal tree and everyone helps to decorate it

Lance goes nuts

people’s thing’s just start going missing and they end up on the tree

everyone knows it's Lance and it’s mildly inconvenient but they can’t bring themselves to say anything bc he just looks so happy

they start voluntarily putting their things on the tree

Keith puts fingerless gloves on it. Lance almost cries laughing

Shiro puts his fucking arm at the top of the tree bc he thinks he’s funny

“Shiro, no you need that what the hell”

“I just wanted to lend a hand, Keith”

Pidge teaches them all about Hanukkah too, and the Alteans love the dreidel

Coran is really hung up on the menorah thing

“But if there was only enough for 1 day, how did it last 8?”

“I don’t know, that’s why they call it a miracle”

“Fascinating”

Keith doesn’t really get this Christmas thing.

like obviously he knows what Christmas is, he’s from Texas of course he does, but he’s not quite sure how to celebrate this.

after Pidge tells Hunk about Lance’s odd behavior Hunk arranges a paladin (and confused Altean) meeting where everyone decides to try this “Christmas in Space” thing out, but Keith is kinda left stranded on what to do.

he wants to help, in the way that you can’t help when you’re maybe, hopelessly in love with someone and would do anything to make them happier, it’s just, holidays were never a part of his childhood and what if he does it wrong?

one thing Keith’s sure is part of this is gift-giving so one day during a battle he picks up a Galra shooter and tosses it to an unarmed Lance with an offhanded “Merry Christmas.”

AND LANCE JUST LIKE FREEZES FOR A SECOND AND THEN JUST GIVES KEITH THE BIGGEST SMILE AND KEITH IS LIKE BLINDED

so he just keeps giving Lance things?

like he sees a cool rock while on a mission and just puts it in his pocket

a couple of days later he stumbles upon a gorgeous blue gem-type thing on some planet and does the same thing bc it reminds him of Lance’s eyes.

and he’ll just like slide the gift over to Lance in the middle of meals or just leave it in front of his door

and Lance always just grins like an idiot bc Keith is being nice to him and he just feels lighter

soon all of the paladins start incorporating casual Christmas gift-giving into their daily lives and as Lance’s mood starts to brighten more day by day Keith can’t help but be a lil proud that he could be the start of someone’s happiness

and everyone starts giving each other gifts and Keith is just really proud bc he started this and he just loves these guys so much and is this what a family is like bc he gets it now

one day Keith’s in Lance’s room (who knows why lmao) and he just sees all of the stuff he’s given Lance placed a little bit away from the other’s gifts and he just smiles a lil to himself

(sorry we’re klance trash)

Hunk’s a good best friend.

he’s also a bit of a people-watcher so when Pidge comes to him with her research* (*stalking) on Lance and the current month on Earth his own thoughts on the matter are confirmed and he jumps straight to planning Space Christmas™.

a secret meeting is arranged promptly to inform the other paladins/alteans of what’s going on (a long explanation of earth customs is required)

then he and coran get ingredients for the Altean equivalent of cookies and just go to work

Pidge and Lance bend cookie cutters out of scrap metal and use those and Keith just cuts out shapes with his knife bc of course he would

cuz if they’re doing Christmas, then they’re doing it right. Hunk’s typical holidays involve so much food, especially as gifts

large family dinners become a mandatory thing, every time getting more elaborate and delicious.

Hunk always makes people share about their day because it’s what his family always did

“So Pidge, how was your day?”

“Hunk, I was with you all day, we had the same day.”

“But how was it?”

when Christmas would roll around Hunk’s younger siblings presented him with small and, to the outsider's eye, meaningless gifts so when he starts getting handed shiny rocks, or little people made of twigs, or one time a small robot that did nothing but blast screamo he can’t help but be reminded of his family too

Shiro had quite honestly forgotten that holidays were such a big deal.

in his defense a lot had happened and they just had slipped his mind.

he’s not opposed to the idea when Hunk brings it up, but a week later he’s fully invested in the holidays and has crocheted several sweaters, because he looks fantastic in red, ok.

growing up with a single parent and a much younger sibling has hardwired into his brain the need to make every holiday as big of a deal as possible and he starts spending late nights decorating various parts of the castle to make this the most magical experience possible because now he had 4 little sibling to share this with and also he needs to and it gives him peace of mind when his nightmares are too intense to sleep through.

every opportunity he gets he spends squirrelling away presents for the 25th or furiously crocheting sweaters for everyone else because what’s Christmas without the ugliest sweaters you’ve ever seen?

ok quick side note but we promise this is relevant: so we all know about the headcanon that Lance knits but consider this: Shiro crochets

and Lance like will not stop giving him shit about ‘wow only one needle? I have two so…’

and Shiro’s a good sport so he just kind of plays along bc wow Lance has started another dumb rivalry who would have guessed

but then Shiro crochets him this blue hat with lion ears on it and Lance can’t really bring himself to keep the the ‘rivalry’ going

(he wears the hat everywhere)

Shiro and Lance team up to make the team stockings and Shiro even makes tiny ones for the mice

the Alteans don’t know what’s going on

like obviously they notice that there’s something off about the paladins, so when Hunk calls his meeting about Lance, they’re kind of like ???? bc they noticed these things with everyone but if they want to pretend that it’s just about Lance then okay

learning about Christmas is….. interesting to say the least

“So you’re telling me that the people of earth tell their children about a reverse thief dressed in red that breaks into everyone’s home?”

“I mean I wouldn’t say it like that”

“Well then how WOULD you say it”

“He just visits everyone to give them gifts-”

“I’ll prepare the castle’s defenses for an intruder immediately!”

“No that’s really not necessary”

They get it eventually.

Allura’s really into the ‘Santa’s reindeer’ thing (something about them reminding her of an altean animal) so she works with pidge to make little reindeer antlers for the mice and also ENORMOUS ONES for the lions

((Keith is FURIOUS (and a little confused) when he sees the large red ball attached to red’s nose but Lance is just laughing and smiling so he guesses it's okay))

@ dreamworks just give us the space fam doing space things for the holidays. just a christmas episode that’s all we’re asking for

Also we hope y’all love long posts cuz this bitch took forever and we’re very proud and feel free to add your own and make it EVEN LONGER

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amorremanet · 8 years ago

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Hiya ! Super late but : 5+ headcanon thingy about...voltron college au if you wanna ? :)

aksfkgdfgh, I did mean to get back to this yesterday, but I got distracted writing and watching House reruns (but the, “give me an AU and I give you 5+ headcanons about it” meme is basically always open, because I am always good to go on AU headcanons)

idk whether to go with the college AU side of the fic that’s actually updating on AO3 or the one college AU that has Hunk/Keith/Lance, Matt/Shiro, Allura/Shay, and Lotor being a pain in the ass because Shiro doesn’t want to date him (and for multiple other reasons, but Shiro not wanting to date him is a big one) — so heck, let’s do both

the AU that doesn’t have a fic at present

Shiro has spent two separate Christmases in the hospital for one reason or another. The first one was when he was in high school: he was working out too hard without actually taking care of himself, putting way too much stress on himself about literally everything (from being allowed to play varsity lacrosse as a sophomore to worrying about his PSAT scores to trying to handle Keith’s first crush for him when Keith literally didn’t ask and just wanted to talk to Shiro about it because he was 13 and didn’t think the guy he liked knew he existed), and after seriously exhausting himself and throwing his electrolytes way, waaay off, Shiro passed out.

The second time was during his sophomore year of uni, and Shiro was so certain that he just had a nasty cold but actually, he was down with pneumonia. And as it turns out, stress from finals week, not eating right, and trying to keep to the same gym schedule that you have when you’re healthy? Not the way to handle pneumonia.

That first time is also the reason why Shiro first started visiting his and Keith’s therapist in a capacity other than, “Shiro had to escort Keith to make sure he got to the appointment and Keith asked him to come into the office too (or possibly emotionally manipulated him into it, maybe both)”

There is probably a 95% chance that Pidge will find a stray cat and try to hide it in her dorm room, despite all of the, “no, you may not have pets in your dorm; exceptions can be negotiated about for disabled students but the rest of you are not allowed to have pets, get over it” rules

When Allura finds out, there’s like a 65% chance that she just won’t report anything as part of an awkward attempt to befriend Pidge

When Hunk/Keith/Lance actually sort out the polyamory thing, Keith is going to want to tell Shiro immediately. The only reason they won’t is that Lance doesn’t believe that Keith can successfully tell Shiro about this by using a Parks and Rec meme — but “successfully” here means, “telling Shiro the thing AND getting him to say the line that is a response to said meme.”

So, they go to Shiro’s room and Keith is all, “This is my boyfriend Hunk and this is Hunk’s boyfriend Lance.”

“Sorry… what’s the situation?” Shiro plays along because he knows that sometimes, you just have to let Keith communicate through borrowed words.

“Hunk is bi and he’s into me, and he’s also into Lance, and Lance is really into Hunk, and I don’t actually hate Lance.”

Hunk: “It’s not that complicated :)”

Shiro: “Okay, but seriously, what is the situation”

Keith: “I’ll tell you everything but only if you say the other thing”

Shiro: “*siiiiiiiiiiiiiighs* …The thing about youth culture is: I don’t understand it”

and then Lance, Keith, and Hunk celebrate because haaaa, Shiro said the thing

Lance really doesn’t mean to be an asshole, most of the time. Like, okay, yes, sometimes, he DOES mean to be kind of an asshole — for instance, when The Paladins get beaten at ultimate frisbee Lotor, Acxa, Zethrid, Ezor, Narti, and Lotor’s coterie of overly similar frat-bro bodyguards, and Lance feels like Lotor definitely cheated somehow despite the complete lack of evidence, so he starts cussing Lotor out and accusing him and the gals of cheating

—but most of the time, Lance just doesn’t really know what to do with his feelings. Especially when a lot of them are things like, “All of the pressure he’s putting on himself to succeed and do well because all his older siblings are awesome and he doesn’t know what he’s good at like they’re good at stuff”

and, “All of his little nieces and nephews look up to Cool Uncle Lance and he wants to be a good role model, and he doesn’t want to let them down and doesn’t realize that the tiny humans love him regardless of how he does at school or what a loser he feels like he is and about the only way that he could ever let them down is if he promised them something and then didn’t deliver on it”

and, “Lance knew that it was going to be hard to leave home and go to school, and he thought maybe it’d be easier because he and Hunk were going to the same place so at least he’d have his best friend — but then he had to room with Keith instead of Hunk, and Keith is THE WORST, but Hunk actually kinda likes Keith and Keith sucks at flirting and Lance feels like he has no right to feel jealous because obviously he’s not in love with Hunk or anything don’t be stupid they’re just best friends and Hunk probably wouldn’t want to be with Lance anyway, and oh god why does everything hurt”

—all of which sort of boils over into Lance crying on Shiro’s shoulder when Shiro tries to sit him down in the Cool RA Single for a Talk about how he and Keith’s mutual antagonism has been steadily escalating (and the whole, “let’s sit all three of us down and hash out your differences and make a plan to handle this” idea went over like a lead balloon because Keith and Lance were both on the defensive, so nothing got discussed in a constructive fashion)

Granted, Lance was on the defensive during the one-on-one chat too, but mostly because he assumed that Shiro was going to take Keith’s side in this by default because they have history together and apparently Hunk is going out with Keith on Friday night so why wouldn’t Shiro take Keith’s side, too

This boiling over of emotion ends with Shiro feeling like he is in way over his head about trying to get Keith and Lance to just…… not even, “get them to be friends,” but, “get them to please stop it with deliberately antagonizing each other, for the love of god, please”

—but also with him going, “Okay, I’m not saying that you need to go to therapy or talk to me about your problems or anything? But if you want to talk to someone, there’s no shame in doing that and it can help a lot, if you let it”

—which in turn results in Lance hugging him tighter and crying a bit more (at least in the short term)

I mean, look, things will get better after this but Lancey-Lance has a LOT of pent-up emotions and Shiro gives nice hugs and says that he doesn’t care about people crying up his shirts, so. We’ll get to an okay place, but Lance has to cry it out first.

Shiro is the only person who doesn’t think the, “world’s okayest dad” mug that Lance and Hunk got him for Christmas is hilarious. He is NOT anybody’s father. Big brother figure — okay, sure, he can deal with that, but he isn’t anybody’s dad, will you please stop calling him that, saying things like, “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed” doesn’t make him any shade of paternal okay.

I mean, he drinks out of the mug anyway because coffee is coffee and as long as the coffee gets into his mouth safely, Shiro doesn’t mind what its container looks like. But still. He’s not your dad.

Everyone else still thinks the mug is hilarious, though (well, okay, Keith thought it was funny for a little bit and has since gotten over it, and Pidge only thought that it was mildly amusing and now she wishes that everyone would just shut up about it).

But yes, they get that Shiro isn’t literally anybody’s dad and that strictly speaking, he is more of an older brother figure than a dad — it’s just that nobody makes, “world’s okayest brother” mugs as far as they know, and Shiro still does things like the whole, “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed” thing until he tries to put conscious effort into NOT doing them (and even then, he still does them)

So, if you ask anyone but Shiro (and Keith and Pidge), that mug is hilarious

the tall, smart, good-looking AU

Shay organized an anti-M//ilo Y//iannopoulous protest back in February because Dean Zarkon was going to let that fucker come to campus and speak. It didn’t turn into full-scale riots like the protests out at UC Berkeley, but there was nevertheless resistance from the student conservative groups, and although the “presentation” was sparsely attended, it also wasn’t canceled like Shay was hoping to get.

Keith thinks that this is a perfectly interesting story about things that actually matter and doesn’t get why the other people in his creative nonfiction class with Dr. Ryner think he should skip writing In Cold Blood!Capote-inspired reportage about the protested and instead write a fucking BuzzFeed Lives piece about how he had this one abusive douchebag foster grandfather who got bitten by a Texas coral snake and died and it was the best day ever

Kolivan is head of the history department. He’s married to Antok, who is also a history professor, and they have a dog called Rufus. They’ve been calling their relationship status, “married” since 1997 (and they’ve been legally married since 2004, when they took advantage of the ruling in Goodridge v. Department of Public Health to make if official). Here is essentially how their proposal went:

Antok: “The only reason you’re trying to pull away is because you’re too scared to marry me!”

Kolivan: “I am absolutely not scared of anything, I LOVE you! If you truly meant the proposal, then you would stand behind your alleged convictions, so I can only conclude that YOU are too scared to let yourself marry ME and are projecting your insecurities because—”

Antok: “WHY WOULD I PROPOSE AT ALL IF I DIDN’T MEAN IT”

Kolivan: “I DON’T KNOW EVERYTHING DO I LOOK PSYCHIC TO YOU”

Antok: “WHAT DOES A PSYCHIC EVEN LOOK LIKE”

Kolivan: “YOU SAID YOU’D GIVE ME TIME TO THINK IT OVER”

Antok: “YEAH. I AGREED TO A WEEK. YOU’VE HAD THREE. JUST ADMIT IT, YOU ARE TOO DAMN SCARED TO MARRY ME”

Kolivan: “I AM NOT SCARED, I’LL MARRY THE SHIT OUT OF YOU RIGHT NOW”

Antok: “OH YEAH? PROVE IT”

Kolivan: “FINE I WILL *fumbles about trying to put on Antok’s engagement ring and refuses help until he finally gets it right by himself* …There! ……Uh, do you know any jewelers that are open right now or would a Ring-Pop from the bodega on the corner be an acceptable stand-in until morning”

—at least they didn’t have to do that again in 2004. Antok just got home really late on the day the ruling was announced (because he’d had an unexpected hospital visit and had hung around to see if his sister would need him and Kolivan to watch her kids for the night) — which she didn’t, in the end, but it still took a while to decide that it was all okay and he called to say that he’d be late but couldn’t keep up as much as he wanted because cellphones circa 2004……

So, when Antok got home, he found Kolivan asleep on the kitchen table, surrounded by a dinner that had gotten cold, a cake he’d made himself, balloons that seemed totally out-of-place in proximity to Kolivan, one of Antok’s scented candles (which had burned down enough that it was like five minutes from setting off their smoke alarm), and a Ring-Pop because he thought it would be a fun callback to their original proposal

(I mean, Kolivan also had another ring to give his husband and had successfully kept it under-wraps for three weeks because he usually doesn’t let himself hope so much — he would tell you that he always hopes for the best but experience, unfortunately, tells him to expect the worst [and if you get that this is a reference to Deep Space 9, you are Kolivan’s friend now] — but he was incredibly, unusually hopeful about how the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court would ultimately rule in Goodridge v. Department of Public Health)

Anyway, this was all so sweet that Antok just…… didn’t wake his husband up until after he’d gotten his camera and taken a picture for posterity’s sake

—and yet, they still periodically have incidents like, “Antok comes and interrupts Kolivan’s class for, ‘serious department business’ that is actually more like, ‘personal issues that are significant but could have waited until after class’ and Kolivan proceeds to spend seven minutes telling his students about why intra-Departmental romances are a bad idea”

or, “Kolivan forgets his own birthday again and, the next day, Antok starts off his class by calling some historical figure an idiot and yeah okay, maybe it sounds like he’s just picking on Napoleon in order to break down the whole, ‘Seeing these historical personages as Huge Important People, rather than as actual human beings, which in turn makes your scholarship less reliable’ thing… but then he gets to the part like, ‘I mean, if you think about it, Joséphine de Beauharnais probably only had her alleged affairs, if she did indeed have them, because Napoleon was a buffoon who was too absorbed in his work to remember his own birthday after she worked so hard to make it nice for him’ and everybody is just like, ‘oh jeez Kolivan really screwed up this time, didn’t he’“

But their dramatics aside, they eventually calm down, talk, and work it out every time because okay yes, they’re both disasters when you get to know them, but they’re disasters who love each other and care about this relationship

(Still, it is generally agreed that Thace probably made the best call by marrying a therapist who is affiliated with the college literally only because Ulaz is married to Thace, and because he sometimes gets clients referred to him by the mental health folks at student health services)

You know that old Arrested Development bit that goes, “Get me a vodka rocks.” / “Mother, it’s breakfast.” / “*sighs, rolls eyes* Fine, and a piece of toast” — yeah, no, Lotor and Honerva have done that exact bit before

One time when they were in undergrad, Ezor and Zethrid tried to make Lotor watch Arrested Development with them because they thought he’d probably find it funny and it might be like a therapeutic outlet for him. They ignored Acxa’s multiple warnings about how this was a terrible idea and it wasn’t going to work……

When Lotor made it through exactly four episodes before kinda breaking down and demanding to know what was so hilarious about a bunch of horrible, self-absorbed people screwing each other over and treating each other like garbage, these parents don’t even see their children as human beings how is this FUNNY, what the fuck is WRONG with the people who made this show, why does everyone love it so much, THIS IS HORRIBLE WHY ARE YOU EVEN MAKING HIM WATCH IT?

……Yeah, it was all Acxa could do not to tell them, “I told you so”

Mostly she didn’t because having known Lotor the longest means that she’s usually the one who has the easiest time of getting through to him in a constructive, helpful fashion when he’s being an even worse mess than usual, or having some kind of meltdown, or similar

Trying to discuss any of the show’s redeeming qualities with Lotor still will not end well. Because…… no, seriously. The Bluth-Fünkes and their misadventures hit waaaay too close to home for him, and remind him of Zarkon and Honerva most obviously (but also of all the extended family members who he pretty openly hates), and just

Don’t go there

Please for the love of God, I’m begging you: do not go there with Lotor, it’s a terrible idea for everyone

If you want to do any dysfunctional family comedies with him, your choices are Little Miss Sunshine and, “absolutely nothing, that is the only option, you can have Little Miss Sunshine or you can pick a genre other than dysfunctional family comedies”

Keith is going to be slightly confused when he gets to the Battle of the Bands on November 3rd and sees Acxa there. Because they have met before, while they were trying to switch between hiding and fighting back against some of the Conservative student groups that were antagonizing at Shay’s protest, and Keith hasn’t seen her around since then. Mostly, he hasn’t seen Acxa because she isn’t actually a student or in any way tied to the college; she just showed up for the protest because she agreed with Shay about not wanting that fuckhead anywhere near her city

Keith is not going to be confused by Zethrid, when he meets her, but basically everyone else is going to be confused by the fact that the two of them actually get along, because both of them have bad tempers and neither of them is really known for having stellar social skills

They’re going to talk to each other because Zethrid is all, “So how do you know my girlfriend and why did you two just have a sort of awkward moment of recognition” so Keith tells her, and aside from both of them thinking it was totally awesome how Acxa threw a brick at some skinhead and didn’t get caught, Keith is all, “*shrugs* You don’t have to apologize for assuming anything and getting defensive or whatever, I totally get wanting to protect the people you love and being willing to beat the shit out of someone to do it”

Zethrid: “*eyebrow arches because…… uh huh, Keith, you are 5’9” and you certainly look skinny even if you’re pretty strong, so you’ll excuse Zethrid for being skeptical* When have you ever beaten the shit out of anybody in your life, little man”

Keith: “……Do you want a romantically relevant example or my favorite example”

Zethrid: “………idk, let’s say both”

Keith: “Okay, well, the romantically relevant example was this one time in Chicago? Shiro, his old roommate, and I went out to a bar, and when we were all leaving, there were some skinheads going at these other guys. So, Shiro’s pretty drunk at the time and has even less impulse control than I did, and he runs right in to play big damn heroes, which ends up with him getting stabbed. Next thing I know, I’m pouncing this skinhead who’s like about Shiro’s height but built bigger than you, pummeling him because he stabbed Shiro. Apparently, I actually did some good damage before he shook me off, but I was kinda drunk too and got a concussion out of it, and my memory of it is a little fuzzy”

Zethrid: “Okay what about your favorite example”

Keith: “I had this foster one brother who liked to do shit like locking me in the cupboard under the stairs or locking me out of the house for several days so he could fuck his girlfriend. At the time, I also had a crush on this girl I went to school with. I mean, we were like 13 and neither of us had very many friends, so it’s not like we dated or anything, but she had a shitty home-life too and we got along. Anyway, I had her over one afternoon so we could work on a thing for our science class, and Bryce started being an asshole, so I kicked him in the nuts so hard that we had to go to the ER and get them pulled back out.”

Zethrid: “NICE. ……I like you. :)”

Keith: “……thank you? ……I think I like you, too.”

Lotor, probably: “Zethrid, nooooo, don’t like the street rat, please, I beg of you, it’s bad enough that Shiro likes him and Acxa thinks he’s okay, NOT YOU TOO ZETHRID, ZETHRID WHYYYYY”

Shiro and Acxa: “*facepalming forever because: 1. they know that they should encourage their Keith and Zethrid in making friends because they both do that so rarely, but… 2. for fuck’s sakes, why are you two bonding over a shared appreciation for violence, like? sdkffkhr, Shiro and Acxa are not outright OPPOSED to violence but can you two please find something else to bond over… and 3. ugh someone really has to go deal with Lotor before he has a full-blown temper tantrum and neither Shiro nor Acxa wants to be that person tonight, they really, really don’t*”

Coran does more active work with the students as the Assistant Dean of Student Life than Zarkon does as the full Dean of Student Life, but it’s an open secret that Zarkon doesn’t want this job — he’d rather just be the President of the University, but in lieu of that, Dean of Faculty is his ideal position — and that he makes Coran deal with more shit while inventing a bunch of bureaucratic reasons why he can’t do it himself.

Strictly speaking, Zarkon could probably get away with a lot more than he already does if he said something about his Chemistry professor wife being a high-functioning alcoholic while their son is sort of perpetually up at the edge of a meltdown cliff, but that would require him to:

1. acknowledge that Honerva has an actual problem instead of trusting that she totally has it under control because she’s a genius and he’s suspending good judgment because he loves her;

2. take Lotor’s problems seriously instead of dismissing him as a little more than a spoiled brat and an overly entitled pain in Zarkon’s ass;

and 3. care about his family’s actual health and overall well-being more than he cares about what the neighbors think and what the other people on campus think and, in general, about what kind of image his family projects to everybody else

—which means that this is basically never going to happen, since even if one of those things came to pass, the other two almost definitely wouldn’t unless Honerva was like, actually dying right here, right now, and Zarkon could not possibly find a way to escape dealing with the consequences of his bullshit choices and how much familial dysfunction that he’s allowed to fester by not taking any of it seriously, thinking that everyone could handle it fine, etc.

After a mix-up with his scholarships and grants that resulted in him losing his student housing, Keith did a lot of sleeping on campus couches while showering at the campus gym and he somehow managed to convince most everyone that he was totally fine…… until he relied on his old trick of sleeping in people’s cars, broke into Alfor’s, and got caught by Allura (who was his girlfriend at the time) and her fancy diplomat father.

The retort, “I mean, you should be glad to see me, I broke in while sleep-deprived and strung out on potentially heart attack-inducing amounts of coffee, so you clearly need a better security system on your Benz” did not go over well

Like, Alfor appreciated Keith’s attempt at humor, and the point about needing to get the security system checked on his car, and Keith’s sense of self-reliance…… but on the other hand, Allura’s boyfriend was all but passed out in Alfor’s backseat and tried to leave when Alfor offered him one of the guest rooms at their place uptown, so

That was kinda worrisome, yeah

Also not really the best way to meet your girlfriend’s father for the first time

Whoops

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shimmerdust11 · 8 years ago

Text

Shatt Fortnight Day 12; Long Distance

I was originally gonna do the fights/disagreements one but I ended up doing this.

(I finished the last half of Little WItch Academia Season 2 before doing this and my emotions were broken so sorry if it sucks)

(I’ve said sorry for almost two weeks straight now.)

(Sorry about that.)

Matt smiled when he saw his phone light up. He quickly answered the skype call and leaned his phone up against his desk and continued on his homework. "Shiro save me I don't wanna do this." Shiro laughed. "I can't save you I am what we say 34? 34 hours away" He was doing homework aswell. "Yeah but I'm dying Shiro." Matt whined. "Sure you are. Hey yesterday you left really suddenly? Just wondering what that was about?" Shiro said never looking away from his homework. Matt tensed up and looked over at the phone. "Oh uh my parents aren't too keen on me talking to you and they had just come home and came up to my room for something." Matt said sliding down in his chair and looking back at his homework. "Oh. I guess I can see why." Shiro said smiling weakly at the screen. "For all they know I'm a 70 year old pervert from the internet who is trying to kidnap you and murder you only to sell you across the border and have you thrown into the ocean." He laughed. Matt laughed. "Oddly specific." "Well I try to be creative sometimes." Shiro stopped laughing. "But seriously. You should let them actually meet me." He looked over at the camera to see Matt's face. "I can't." Matt said looking over sadly. Shiro tilted his head slightly. "I've sent them links to all your social medias and literal screenshots and videos I have of you but they still refuse to talk to you and let me talk to you." "Sounds like they have a grudge against me." Shiro said. "What about your sister?" Matt leaned back in his chair. "Katie doesn't care in all honesty. She's focusing on school stuff right now." "Well either way it's been almost 6 months now." Shiro said putting his homework away. "Yeah I guess." Matt said. "Hey where did you say you were going on vacation this summer?" "I'm going to a beach in Florida." Shiro grabbed his phone and walked to his bed and leaned it against the headboard. "Damn." Matt said. "Why?" Shiro said laying on his stomach facing the phone. "Was gonna try and convince my parents to go to the same place you were so I could meet you and show them you aren't 70." Matt said taking his phone and laying on his bed. "Well where are you going on vacation?" Shiro asked. "Some campground or something in Wyoming." Matt said groaning. "We go there every year to get together with the family out that way." Shiro sat up. "You know the name of the campground?" Shiro asked. "No. And I really don't care either. It's like 18 and a half hours of straight hell. And then we go through the entire thing on the way home." Matt groaned. Shiro heard a door open downstairs. He frowned. Matt sat up. "Shiro gotta go parents just got home. I'll text you tonight if I'm able. Seeya" Matt hung up. "Seeya." Shiro said quietly after the phone had been hung up. He was determined to get to Matt this summer. - "Yo Shiro it's the last day of school and my parents won't be home for a good solid couple hours." Matt said as soon as Shiro answered the phone. Shiro smiled. "Good now I don't have to hear you complain every 5 minutes about homework." Shiro laughed. "S-shut up" Matt said blushing. He took a deep breath. "Uh Shiro can I tell you something." Shiro sat up and turned back towards the camera. "Yeah. What's wrong?" "So like you know how I came out to you awhile ago?" Matt asked quietly, stuttering over a few words. Shiro nodded. "I uh well think I have a crush on you." Shiro smiled and blushed. "I've literally have had a crush on you for the past like 6 and half months." Matt sighed happily. "Oh thank god I wasn't the only one." - Shiro sat on the bench outside the campgrounds office. He already had checked into his cabin with his brother Keith who was currently passed out in said cabin. Shiro knew Matt was arriving soon with the amount of 'get me out of this f'ing car' texts he was getting. That and the fact Matt said he was pulling into the campsite. Shiro jumped when he saw a car on the other side of the parking lot park. He watched a family of four get out. They were half way over when Matt saw him. "SHIRO?" Matt yelled crying as he ran towards him. Shiro smiled and stood up grabbing Matt when he jumped onto him. Matt was sobbing as Shiro wrapped his arms around him. Shiro started crying a little until he heard Matt's parents coughing. Matt let go of Shiro and turned towards his parents. "Look hes a perfectly normal 18 year old." Matt said grabbing Shiro's hand. It felt right holding his hand. Shiro held out his right hand. "Takashi Shirogane. I'm 18 and from Texas. I'm also here with my younger brother Keith. He just turned 17." Matt's dad hesitated before shaking his hand. "You two are here alone?" He asked. Shiro nodded. "Just for today. Our parents will be here tomorrow. My mom gets pretty carsick so they have to take a lot of breaks." Matt's mom shook Shiro's hand before looking between the two. Matt still had a death grip on Shiro's left arm and hand. She closed her eyes and smiled. She held her hand out towards Matt's Dad. "I win." She said. Matt's dad muttered something before handing her $20. "Wait you bet on if he was actually 70 or not?" Matt's dad said nothing as he walked inside the camp office with his wife and Matt's sister. She looked at the two. "Please keep all your romance away from my salad." She said before turning to follow her parents. Matt smiled looking up at Shiro. "I can't believe you're here." He said hugging Shiro again before kissing him. Shiro happily kissed back in the middle of a campsite parking lot.

#shatt week 2017 #shatt fortnight 2017 #takashi shirogane #matt holt #voltron #this was a lot longer than I originally thought

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ecotone99 · 5 years ago

Text

[RF] An Absence of Wildflowers

For the first time in her life, Joan rode into her favorite campsite and found no wildflower in sight. She couldn’t remember a time she’d ever looked out the window and didn’t see a Texas Bluebonnet or an Indian Blanket or a Brown-eyed Susan. Yet there was nothing, only a field of green grass and the clear blue lake ruffling in the wind.

The campground was nearly deserted. A few loyal campers remained but were quickly packing their things into their RVs, attempting to beat the incoming storm. Keith drove until he found their reserved spot. He switched off the engine and the two surveyed the area before getting out. They had practically the whole campsite to themselves, save for the family of four about 100 yards down.

Joan stared at them longingly and Keith looked over at her. “You okay?” he asked. His voice was gentle, comforting. He rested his hand on her knee and peered at her with his soft eyes. But Joan kept her focus on the family, the small children riding their scooters back and forth in front of the camper. She couldn’t bear Keith’s sympathy. Not today.

“I’m fine,” she quickly answered. And before he could argue, she opened the passenger door and slipped out of the truck, leaving Keith’s hand to flop down onto the empty seat. Joan started unloading their things from the truck bed, unwilling to look up when Keith slowly walked towards her. She knew he would try to stop her, to talk to her, to calm her down. She waited for his hand to find her shoulder. For his voice to whisper her name in her ear in that loving way that sent chills down her spine. For his worthless attempt to convince her that everything would be alright. She swallowed and urged herself not to lose her temper with him. But to her surprise, he only stood for a moment looking at her, then joined her in unpacking the truck.

After a while, the tension between them was nearly forgotten. They continued unloading in silence while Joan enjoyed flashbacks from the camping gear. Pulling out the stakes and tarp reminded her of her father when he had finally agreed to teach her how to set up a tent. She had messed it up the first time, failing to hammer in the stakes properly and finding the shelter sideways and loose. But he hadn’t let her give up, and after several more tries, she had erected her own tent, perfectly straight, and her father had called her a “true camper.”

She unpacked their pots and pans and remembered how her mother made the most savory chili on their small camping stove. She’d mix in the ingredients one-by-one as Joan stared at the pot in awe. When it was finally ready, she would shovel each scoop into her hungry belly. And she’d always laugh when her father dipped his mouth into the bowl to show off a chili-covered mustache.

But somehow, the items were different now. The stakes were curved and more rusty than she remembered. The pot was grimy with flakes covering the bottom. And the campsite itself didn’t seem as magical as it once had been when she and her father fished from the dock 20 feet below. Now it was just a dirty plot of concrete, used countless times, scattered with the remnants of families before them.

It didn’t take long before all their gear had been unloaded and set up. Keith had been a camping virgin the first time she took him while they were still dating. He hadn’t known how to build a fire or tie a proper knot until Joan had expertly taught him from her years of experience with her family. And after their five years together, he had finally gotten the hang of it, setting up camp almost as skillfully as she did.

It became a common thing for the two of them to go camping together. Every long weekend or holiday, the couple would pack their things and drive down to the little park and enjoy a few nights out in the wilderness. It wasn’t until their third trip, noticing Joan’s uncontainable joy, that Keith had asked her why she loved camping so much.

“It reminds me of family,” she said. “Of hiking with my dad in the forest and singing campfire songs with my mom. You just connect with people out here. You remember what’s important in life.”

After that, Keith started to hold Joan a little closer on their trips, and from his almost unseen side smile, she could tell that he was starting to feel it too.

But there were no smiles to be seen that night while the two roasted their hotdogs over the blazing fire. Each sat opposite each other, distant and out of reach, with Joan lost in thought, nearly burning her dog to a crisp.

There she was. Just four years old and struggling to roast her hotdog without dropping it into the fire. Seeing her trouble, her father had sat down behind her, pulled her onto his lap and held her hands around the stick, relieving her of the unbearable weight. They had sat there listening to the fire crackle and watching the sparks shoot into the night sky. She thought there was nothing more delicious in the world until her mother pulled out a large bag of Jumbo Marshmallows.

She and her father sat patiently as they roasted her first marshmallow. Suddenly, it caught fire. It was completely covered in flames, turning black inside the yellow inferno. “Daddy, it’s on fire!” she’d shouted. But her panic was short-lived. He blew out the marshmallow with all his might, leaving it free of flames but slightly charred. “Oh no! It’s ruined.” Her bottom lip stuck out and she crossed her arms in disappointment.

But her father stood up and placed it between some graham crackers and chocolate. “No, Joan.” He knelt down and handed it to her on a small plate. “It’s perfect.”

Returning to reality, she realized her hotdog was well overdone. She sighed and slid it into a bun. It was no problem. That was how she liked them anyway.

The silence was broken after she took her first bite of the ketchup covered delicacy. “Keith, do you have the marshmallows?”

He stopped chewing. His eyes went wide. “Shit, I completely forgot.”

Joan felt her heart sink. “But…how can we camp without marshmallows? We have to have them, Keith!” She could hear the hysteria in her voice but found it hard to mask.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We don’t need them.” He spoke carefully, like he was trying to calm a wild animal.

“Yes, we do! It’s not camping if we don’t roast marshmallows by the fire!” She knew she was being unreasonable, but she couldn’t help it. Marshmallows had always been a part of the camping experience, and if they didn’t have them, then they were practically hobos.

Keith sighed and brushed his hand through his hair. Joan could tell he was trying to stay calm. One of them had to be. “I can go grab some from the nearest store, I guess.” He stood from his lawn chair.

Joan looked at the burnt hotdog in her hand. The charred skin had flaked off onto the plate and the bun was mixing with the ketchup, turning to mush. “Wait.” She dumped the remnants into the fire. “You’re right. We don’t need them.”

“Are you sure?” His voice was still so soft, like a warm blanket he tightly wrapped around her. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah. I’ll be okay.” She had lost her appetite anyway.

The rest of the evening passed in an uneasy silence. Joan wished it could’ve been one of those peaceful silences, the ones where they both held each other close and enjoyed the sounds of the campfire, when she rested her head on his shoulder and couldn’t think of a warmer place to be.

But agonizing thoughts raced through her mind, dragging her through endless torment. She stared at the fire, waiting for some kind of reprieve that never came. Behind the light of the flames, she thought she saw a wildflower, a bright blue glow, just a few feet beyond their plot. But at second glance, she saw that it was only a piece of plastic stuck to a blade of grass.

By far, her favorite camping activity was picking wildflowers. She’d spend hours finding the prettiest ones then brought them over to her mother who would bundle them up and place them in a special vase used as a centerpiece for their camp table.

Since she started camping with Keith, she would bring the vase herself, scour the area for the most beautiful flowers she could find, and arrange them for the table. It was a tradition she wanted to keep alive, for herself and whoever came after.

When the fire started to die down, Keith finally stood up and made his way to the tent. Joan quickly followed, unwilling to face her thoughts alone, and slid into the sleeping bag beside him. Her eyes were heavy, but she knew the voices in her head were too loud for sleep. She closed them anyway, praying for some kind of merciful hand to wipe her mind clean.

Before long, Keith turned over and pulled her body towards his. She kept her eyes closed, hoping he would assume she was asleep and leave her alone. But they shot open at the sensations from his lips rolling up and down her neck. She sighed as his hand slid down her bare stomach and inner thigh.

“Keith, not tonight.” She tried to pull away, but he only moved her closer, wrapping his leg around hers as his lips began to nibble at her ear. “Babe, no.”

He silenced her, taking her lips captive with his own, kissing her both gently and deeply. She wanted to give in, to let him fill her broken heart with his unconditional love. But it would be no use. Her heart was frozen. She pushed him away. “I can’t.”

He stopped and opened his eyes. They weren’t the selfless, caring eyes she was used to, but panicked and hurting. They looked as if they were begging her to understand. “Joan, please. There’s still a chance.”

She was speechless. Anything she said would only tear him apart, snip the last string of hope that he’d somehow managed to hold onto. She couldn’t stand to see him like that, much too close for comfort to the way she felt inside. She pulled his face back down to meet hers and let him take her fiercely under his arms. And as he desperately pulled her shirt over her head, she closed her eyes again and tried to hear his breath over the deafening screams of her soul.

She had been right about her insomnia. Keith had moved back over to his side of the tent and fallen fast asleep hours before, and she had been staring at the ceiling, thankful for the droplets of rain falling on the tarp that happened to distract her every now and then. She guessed it must have been at least 2:00 AM, and she hadn’t slept a wink.

She sat upright, careful not to wake up her snoring husband. She slowly unzipped her sleeping bag and slipped out of the tent. The rain had lightened up, and she decided to walk over to the lake. There was nothing better for her to do anyway.

After a few minutes, she walked by the camper with the small family. On the street lay the scooters the children were riding when she and Keith had seen them the day before. She walked over and picked one up. It was pink with silver tassels, rainbow stickers scattered across the front and a name etched into the handles: Erica.

She smiled and placed it in a dry spot under a tree, thinking about how beautiful Erica must look riding her little scooter. She turned and continued her walk as the torturous memories started to replay.

It had been six days since the appointment. Six days since she and Keith had visited the doctor who ripped her apart. Six days since their dreams had been crushed like lone ants on the sidewalk.

It’s a very rare condition...Only happens to a handful of women…Possible but unlikely…You’ll probably never be able to have children.

She hadn’t said anything. She’d kept her mouth shut as his words turned into the broken records that now played in her head over and over again. Keith had fought tooth and nail for a better answer, stammering, threatening, begging. But she hadn’t heard any of it. The new words in her mind were much too loud.

They’d been trying for years. Each pregnancy test that came up negative brought her a little lower to the ground, but Keith was unwilling to give up. Months went by with more and more disappointment, and by the time they’d made the doctor’s appointment, Joan felt like she was looking up from the floor.

It was something they’d both wanted for so long, a little baby to call their own. She’d wanted a girl and Keith wanted a boy, but Joan knew that deep down, her husband wanted a daughter to spoil. And now every hope they had was gone, burned to the ground and blown away like ashes. And it was all her fault. Well, not technically her fault, but she was the one with the problem. She was the one who took away his dreams of dressing up with his little princess or playing catch with his future all-star.

Joan had finally made it to the water’s edge and gazed quietly at the stillness. She found a dry patch of land and sat. The rain seemed to have stopped for a second, making the water look more like a solid crystal. She took a deep breath and sighed, hugging her knees to her chest. She thought about jumping in, wondering if the shock of the freezing water would free her mind.

Instead, she decided to skip some stones. “Remember to throw it sideways.” She saw her father’s arm swinging out towards the water, tossing a rock that bounced four times.

“Like a frisbee!” she’d said. Her father laughed and nodded. Joan had thrown it as hard as she could, never getting a bounce. She’d finally skipped it three times when her father had taken her hand in his own and perfectly casted the stone onto the smooth water.

She’d mastered the skill now. Easily getting in four, five, six skips. She reached for another and, realizing she was all out, pulled her legs back into her chest and rested her chin on her knees. She should probably get back to the tent. Keith could have woken up and been worried about her. She moved her hands to the ground and right as she started to rise, she heard a faint whimper.

She stopped, turning her head towards the brush, wondering if she’d finally gone crazy. After a moment, she heard a similar whine, louder this time. Walking over towards the bushes, she moved them carefully to the side, frightened at what she might find.

She moved a few branches out of the way, and suddenly she saw it: a small bunny laying on the dirt, cut open and bleeding. Her stomach dropped. Its small belly was slashed open, spilling its contents onto the ground. It must have been attacked, but for some reason, it was still here, left to die.

Joan’s panic was uncontrollable. This bunny, this small innocent creature, could not die. It wasn’t right or fair. She took the two sides of its open wound and desperately tried to pull them together. The bunny writhed in pain, pulling away but unable to stand. Blood covered Joan’s hands, and although she did everything she could to push it away, in came the worst memory of them all.

She was sitting on the bathroom floor, the tiles covered in a thick sheet of blood. The pain in her abdomen throbbed as she ejected more and more blood and tissue. She had tried to hold it in, to push it back with her shaking hands. But nothing could stop it from pouring out.

Keith had been at work, but she screamed for him anyway, begging him to save their miracle that was dripping from her fingertips. And little did they know that the bleeding would mark the end of their once-in-a-million chance. That they would never get one again.

The rabbit squirmed under her touch, each attempt at saving it resulting in more pain and blood. The tears in Joan’s eyes started to blur her vision. “No, no, no! You can’t die! You can’t!” The whimpers turned to horrific moans, and after the bunny let out a bloodcurdling shriek, she finally let go.

She couldn’t stand its cries anymore. She couldn’t take the pain in her heart or the agony she knew the rabbit was feeling. (but she had to stop its pain) There was no point trying to save what was already long gone. She turned away, sobbing as she found the biggest rock she could find. Turning her eyes the other way, she hammered the rock down onto the bunny. She crushed it, pound after pound, until the whines finally ceased, her violent weeping the only sound in the forest.

She dropped the weapon, unwilling to view the damage she’d done, and looking where she found the rock, she saw a single wildflower, smushed flat into the earth. Her bloody hands rose to meet her face once again, staining her cheeks along with the tears that never stopped.

Any feedback appreciated. Thank you!

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