#and i still like shay even in her weird beta version

[minamotoz]

rewatching s13-14 of degrassi with my sister has made me rethink my opinions on some characters... i like grace a lot more now, i think i didnt care for her before bc i hate tv show depictions of 'computer hackers' but i appreciate her way more, same w the rubber room group. i have a newfound appreciation for becky bc shes my sisters current fave and i think sarah fisher is extremely cute, i dont hate frankie or tristan as much anymore and i think im even coming around a bit on zig which are words i never thought i would ever say.

on the flipside though i somehow hate drew and jonah way more than i used to

[hailqiqi]

The Stars Aren’t the Same for You and I

A dance that was a bad idea, a kiss that should never have happened, and too many questions with answers nobody wants to hear.

Too happy for a Sunday night? Have some angst! Guaranteed to get you properly depressed for the impending work-week ahead.

Shout out to @sp4c3-0ddity and @fromageinterrupted for the beta-reading, with special thanks to @fromageinterrupted for the title because anybody who knows me knows I’m shit at them.

Words: 2,910

Read it on AO3 here.

Keith still wasn’t convinced it was a good idea, but even his mom had insisted that they needed a break. So here he was, standing around outside the base as the sun began to go down, waiting on the last few members of their party to arrive.

Shiro, Hunk, Lance and himself all wore some version of a button-down shirt and slacks. Allura was already ready — she seemed to have been born ready for fancy occasions — and was wearing her blue dress, her arm linked through Lance’s, while Coran was also wearing his normal uniform. They were heading to a makeshift bar on the edge of the city on Marco’s recommendation, to let loose and have some fun ‘for once’ (in Shiro’s words).

Shay had declined the invitation, saying that large crowds weren’t really her thing. They weren’t really Keith’s thing either, but the others seemed to be excited about it so joining was the right thing to do, right? Plus, Pidge had flat-out told him she’d need the support.

And speaking of Pidge…

“There you guys are! What took you so long?” Hunk waved over his shoulder, and Keith turned to see Romelle and Pidge jogging up to them.

“I’m sorry, but do you know how difficult Pidge’s hair is to style?” Romelle made a face, and Shiro laughed.

“It doesn’t look like you ended up doing much with it,”  he said. “Both of you look nice though.”

Pidge flashed him a smile, touching a hand to the bun at the back of her head. “Honestly, we gave up and just went with something simple and a headband.”

“No, you look really good!” Lance exclaimed. “I kinda wasn’t expecting you to go all out.”

“Yeah, well,” Pidge shrugged, embarrassed, then did a quick twirl. “We’re going to a salsa place, right? Gotta wear a dress and heels for that.”

Lance raised an eyebrow at her, his eyes bright. “You’re gonna dance with me later, right?”

Keith frowned, but before he could say anything Pidge had latched onto his arm, her tongue stuck out at Lance and a finger pointing at Allura. “You have a girlfriend who has never salsaed, and I promised Keith earlier that I’d teach him how to dance. So probably not.”  

She finished with a laugh, but there was something tense in the line of her shoulders as she tugged him towards the cars, despite the banal chatter starting up behind them.

Yep. Keith definitely had a bad feeling about this.

 —————

 The club was less of a club and more of a tent, but hey, it had been years since Lance had last been at a place like this so he was determined to enjoy himself.

Unfortunately, it turned out his girlfriend didn’t really get human dancing so he was resigned to mostly drinking, which — honestly? Wasn’t really his thing. Lance was the life of the party and he lived on the dancefloor. Drinks were just a bonus, and he could count the number of times he’d gotten tipsy at a party on one hand (‘tipsy’ had been left in the dirt a while back tonight, though).

When they’d first arrived he’d tried to show Allura how to move, but she’d been more-than-a-little freaked out at the idea of his hands on her waist (and even more scandalised at the idea that human women danced like that with men they didn’t even know). Lance didn’t get it — so he could kiss the girl but not hold her? — but stuck it on his list of ‘weird things about having an alien girlfriend’ and chivalrously held her hands while they danced for a while, which was totally fun and all but not really how he wanted to dance with his girlfriend at a salsa place.

Right now, Allura was dancing with Romelle, taking turns leading like a couple of kids at a wedding, both of them laughing raucously the whole time.  His lips curved up in a smile — it was nice to see Allura let loose a little, she was always so proper — but a shard of envy stabbed at his heart. He wanted to be out there, dammit, not sitting on the sidelines like a loser.

Even Keith was dancing.

Sighing, he scanned the crowd for Pidge. Allura wouldn’t mind if he danced with Pidge — she’d said so herself — but Pidge was hot tonight and apparently had no time for him. He’d tried to ignore the way jealousy had curled in his gut every time he’d seen her dancing with a new partner, reasoning it was just because he’d hardly seen her lately. Maybe he could ask her about that when he finally got a chance to ask her to dance.

If.

 —————

 “You’re popular tonight,” a voice drawled from beside her.

“Apparently,” she replied, rolling her eyes as she turned to face Lance. “Having fun?”

“Honestly? Not really.” He shrugged, leaning back against the bar and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Pidge dragged her gaze away from the way his shirt clung to his broad shoulders and focused back on her drink, faking a sympathetic noise as he continued, “My girlfriend doesn’t wanna dance with me, and apparently the only girl I’m allowed to actually dance with has got a line of guys a mile long waiting for their turn.”

Pidge snorted. “It’s it not my responsibility to dance with you just because your girlfriend doesn’t like salsa.” Besides, one of those guys might end up being worth keeping around for a while, and then I can get over you. She hadn’t found anyone she clicked with yet, but the night was still young, and either way she’d been having fun until Lance came to ruin it with his moping.

“Fine. One dance, though?” He was looking at her hopefully, his hand held out for her to take, and Pidge hesitated. “C’mon, we haven’t danced since before we lost the castle, and you always said you’d dance with me once we got to Earth.”

Yeah, but that was before you started dating Allura. The words were on the tip of her tongue but she bit them back, instead placing her hand in his with a sigh. “Fine. One.”

Lance’s face lit up, and Pidge died a little more inside.

 —————

 Dancing with Pidge was fun.

They’d danced together a lot before, back before they’d had to shove the castle in a black hole to save the universe. It was always a late night thing; he’d spent more sleepless nights than he could count in Green’s hangar or on the observation deck with Pidge, talking about Earth and what they missed, and more often than not they’d end up digging through his phone or her laptop for music and laughing their way through a couple of songs in pyjamas and slippers. Pidge had been a dancer before the Garrison too, so dancing together was a nice mix of messing around and professional challenge.

Tonight was different, though. Maybe it was the tequila running through his veins making him dizzy, or the heat of the dancefloor, or just finally getting a chance to hang with one of his best friends after months of barely seeing them. Maybe it was because the music was so loud he could actually feel the rhythm pounding in his soul, vibrating through his body from the subwoofers.

Whatever it was, it was electrifying.

Sweat dripped down his collar as they moved through the crowd, laughing when he accidentally spun her into a couple dancing nearby. He pulled her close again to steady her, grinning when she placed her hands back on his shoulders and leaned up to half-shout in his ear: “This is a lot harder when we’re drunk!”

They pulled back a little, Lance brushing a sweaty strand of hair behind her ear as he leaned in to answer, “Are you sure it’s not the heels?”

“No!” she answered, smacking his shoulder for good measure. “I was fine before!”

“Ah, then it must be my dashing looks distracting you!”

She smelled like alcohol and the rainforest after a downpour, and he immediately missed it when she laughed and pulled away to place her hand back in his. “You wish. Again?”

He nodded, hand firmly around her waist (she was so tiny! And warm!) and together they counted the beats before stepping off again. They made it through the next song without crashing into anyone else, and then the next, stepping around each other, moving back and drawing close as they moved with the beat.

A stumble, and suddenly she was warm against his chest, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and laughter in her eyes.

Lance couldn’t look away.

 —————

 Pidge wasn’t sure how it had happened.

One moment she was laughing up at Lance, leaning against his chest from where she’d tripped on a return and he’d caught her.

The next moment he was kissing her.

Pidge inhaled sharply, caught off guard, but the exhilaration rushing through her veins was intoxicating and she found herself melting. The arm around her waist was strong yet the warm palm on her cheek was oh-so-tender, and as she wound her own arms around his neck she briefly thought that tequila tasted sweeter on his lips.

Her head was swimming. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. Why hadn’t they done this before?

The answer cut through the haze of her mind like a bucket of cold water, and suddenly she was wide awake.

His brow furrowed when she pulled away, placing her hands on his chest to firmly push him back as his eyes fluttered open. Steeling herself, she forced her gaze up to his before saying, “Lance.”

He offered her a boyish, lopsided smile that made her heart flip. “Yeah?”

“Lance,” she repeated, swallowing. “Lance, you have a girlfriend.”

It was almost comical, really, the way she could pinpoint the exact moment it dawned on him, and in any other situation she would have been in hysterics. Right now, though, all she could do was watch the colour drain from his features and try not to cry.

“I…” He stared at her, mouth opening and closing like a fish, and she couldn’t stay there any longer.

“I need some air,” she said firmly, gaze on the floor as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

Pidge turned her back on him and began to weave her way through the crowd. She didn’t look back.

 —————

 Despite her young age, Allura understood all too well how everything could change in an instant.

Altea had been peaceful and happy, until it wasn’t. Lotor had been a good man, a beacon of hope in an otherwise bleak reality, until he wasn’t. She had been enjoying watching Lance — a man she felt she could come to truly love despite his odd habits and their frequent culture clashes — dance with one of her best friends...until she wasn’t.

She watched Pidge push him away, her face distraught as she spoke words Allura couldn’t hear, and all she felt was a wave of numbness washing over her as she thought: Not again.

Pidge disappeared from view, lost in the sea of bodies on the dance floor. Lance stood alone listlessly, his expression lost as he ran his fingers through his hair — his stupid, soft hair that she’d been running her fingers through earlier. Then he turned his head and looked right at her.

Their gazes met across the room, and Allura suddenly realised that she had no interest whatsoever in hearing whatever he had to say. Not now, at least. She stepped back, raising her hands to ward him off before he could consider approaching her, and turned away, dismissing Romelle’s concern with a plea for air.

Later, she would need to make a decision. Possibly more than one. However, right now her thoughts were a tempest of tumultuous proportions, tumbling over each other as nausea roiled in her stomach, and she knew there was a high chance that she would do or say something that she would later regret.

So, instead, she left.

Her feet carried her outside, where the back of the gathering opened up onto an overgrown building site. Large blocks of some synthetic stone littered the ground, poking out through the weeds like small islands, and groups of revellers were crowded around the closer ones, lounging on them or using them as tables. The music and light spilling from the bar faded with each step she took, allowing the cool breeze of an Earth night to calm her thoughts; and she soon found herself thinking back to happier times spent slipping through the gardens at night as a teenager.

The stars here were wrong, though; as alien to her as anywhere else, now, and while the Milky Way splashed across the sky was certainly beautiful it wasn’t anything like a Sky Ring. The blue light of the Balmera, at least, was familiar, and she could take some comfort in that.

However, that comfort was short-lived when she spotted a familiar silhouette perched on a block.

Pidge.

Allura froze, hesitating while she weighed her options. Pidge was facing away from her; it would be simple to just turn and go before she became aware of her presence. Although she knew she would need to talk to her eventually, Pidge was not someone she particularly wanted to talk to right now. The red-and-white stripes of Pidge’s dress only brought to mind the way Lance had been looking at her as they danced, his eyes alight with an exuberant joy she’d never seen when he looked at her, and stirred the beginnings of a bitter anger in her stomach.

Before she could turn to leave, though, the line of Pidge’s shoulders shook, and she realised with a start that the younger girl was crying.

The anger vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced with a quiet sympathy. Pidge hadn’t asked for any of this, either.

She walked forward.

“Pidge? Are you all right?”

Pidge whipped around, startled, her eyes widening when she saw Allura approaching. “Allura! Allura, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s all right,” she assured her, coming to a stop next to Pidge’s perch. “I’m not angry with you.”

“No, Allura,” Pidge shook her head, looking up at her earnestly, black tear marks on her face. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Pidge,” Allura said firmly, “You did not ask for Lance to kiss you. I have no reason to be angry with you.”

“Allura, I kissed him back.”

A breeze blew through the field, making the tall grasses around them sway.

Allura looked at Pidge, uncomprehending. “What?”

“I kissed him back, Allura,” Pidge repeated, her head hung low as she curled in on herself. “It wasn’t… I didn’t not want him to.”

“Why?” The question hung between them, but Pidge simply looked away.

The peaceful chirping of Earth’s nocturnal insects suddenly felt like an inappropriate soundtrack as countless memories and half-dismissed discussions seemed to all make sense at once. The green ear-covers Lance always had in the morning, which clearly weren’t his. Coran’s subdued concern over their friendship when Allura had announced her courtship to him. How Lance had alternately pouted and moped for the last month when Pidge wasn’t answering his communications as quickly as she apparently had before, putting him in a bad mood that not even Allura was able to lift.

Her voice was quiet as she asked: “You like him, don’t you?”

A heartbeat. Then—

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“How long?”

“Longer than you.”

Pidge’s tone was uncharacteristically bitter, and when Allura snapped her gaze to her she was already hunched over, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Allura. That was uncalled for.”

She ignored her. “How long?”

“Um…” Pidge breathed deeply and looked away, her fingers fiddling with the fabric of her dress. “From before we met you. About four years.”

Allura felt her eyes widen as she processed Pidge’s reply. “Four years?!”

Pidge nodded miserably. Allura stared at her, an unpleasant thought taking hold in her brain.

“Is that why you dressed so nicely tonight? Because you like Lance?”

“Sort of, yeah,” Pidge admitted, and the smouldering anger caught fire and rose to her throat. “I was hoping if I dressed nice I might meet someone new, and then it wouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

For the second time that night, the flames were doused immediately. “What?”

“That’s how it works, right?” Pidge gestured at her, her lips curved into a cruel parody of a smile. “You get pretty and then some guy comes and sweeps you off your feet.”

“Oh.” A few more dots connected, and Allura inhaled sharply. “You’ve been avoiding him.”

“Lance? Yeah. Yeah, I have.”

“He’s been very upset about it.”

Pidge let out a watery laugh. “Good. Screw him.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what that phrase means.”

Pidge laughed again, but the sound soon turned to sobs as the tears began to flow. “Allura, I’m so sorry. I…” She rubbed at her cheeks furiously, half-choking on the words. “I never wanted to like him.”

Me neither.

“I know.”

“I just wanted you two to be happy together.”

Allura looked up at the stars — the same stars Lance had grown up looking at, the same stars that had inspired him to become an explorer and set him on the path to meeting her — and all she felt was empty.

“I believe you.”