#anyway rant over none of this matters stop perceiving me

[quartergremlin]

i never know what to say when this happens...

transcript:

Quarter:

(It's been a little bit since i've made am illustration... It's mot the vest, but at least i finished something.)

Some guy I've never seem before:

"Wooow! You're getting so much vetter! keep it up!"

Q:

Thanks? (What are you talking about?)

[slasherscream]

Yes yes wreck me inside out, make me cry, I lOVE ANGST AND/OR FLUFF

A/N: angst won out because i’m a bastard i guess

       billy loomis x reader x stu macherft. reader has amnesia and forgets the boys

                                                     ——————– 

You’d just gone out to get a few things from the store.

You’d kissed them both on the cheek before walking out the door. Thrown a casual “I love you” over your shoulder on your way out which the boys had echoed immediately. You’d be back soon, you’d promised. They’d believed you because why wouldn’t they? You were always back soon. Never gone for long or never gone too far.

Been together for years now, the three of you. Since highschool and now you’re all in your mid-twenties. Some people grow apart. You’d all grown together, every year brought you three closer and closer to one another in ways even you hadn’t seen coming. 

After-all how many highschool sweethearts really last? You’re a relationship minority. A fact your boys are endlessly smug about. Even you puff up with pride when talking about the two of them and how you all are. Perfect, you always say. Because you’re sure you’ve got a relationship as close to perfect as a relationship can get.

The honeymoon phase had hit you all hard and seemingly never left. There’d been rough patches of course. Uncovered secrets (both bloody and benign). Adjustment periods. The troubles that accompanied learning to shrink three separate lives down into a single harmonious one. 

But every challenge you’d come across you’d conquered it together. Together you could face anything.

Then you didn’t come home. At first they thought it was a long line at the store. Then they thought maybe you’d stopped to pick up some food on the way back. Another two hours passed and they panicked. No messages. No calls and you never went so long without communicating a change in plans. None of you did that. Hadn’t even back in highschool when you were all just kids bullshitting your way through relationship etiquette.

They blow up your phone but there’s no response. When they do finally get a call they’re already shrugging on coats and headed out the door, ready to find you their damn-selves. They don’t recognize the number but Billy picks up immediately, “Y/N? Is that you? Where the hell are you? You’ve been gone for hours what-”

“Is this Billy Loomis?” A calm male voice interrupts him before he can really get himself wound up and on a rant. Billy goes quiet, eyes closing with irritation as he snatches up his keys.

“Yes. Who the hell is this? I’m busy.”

“There’s been an accident and you’re listed as the emergency contact for Y/N L/N.”

Billy goes rigid. “What?”

The sudden change from anger to nothing makes Stu crowd him asking him what’s wrong. Stu is just a buzz in Billy’s ear in comparison to the voice speaking to him through the phone.

“They’re alive but their condition is critical. It’s urgent that you-”

Everything is a blur after that. Getting to the hospital (somehow in one piece). Talking to doctors. Waiting. Endless waiting. Stu curled up crying in a chair while Billy tries to comfort him from the numb, half state of being he’s fallen into. At one point they have to go sit in their car, Stu in real and true hysterics that had begun to scare the few other people around them. The night is drawn out torture and it stays that way until the early morning hours. 

Stu had curled himself tightly around Billy, squeezed snugly against one another in one hospital lounge chair. Holding him like Billy was all he had. They were both afraid that this could be their new reality. Just the two of them (it had been that way once, ages and ages ago). The talk they’d had with the doctor was less than hopeful. Losing you …. an unthinkable cruelty they couldn’t wrap their heads around even as they imagined it. 

And then a miracle. A doctor walking over and delivering the first good news they’d heard since arriving. “Stable. They’re stable and you’ll be able to see them soon.”

Stu started crying all over again. Only soothed by Billy’s arms around him holding him steady and tight. Maybe holding him together. It’s still a few hours before they’d allowed to see you.

They’ve seen worse injuries. They’ve caused worse injuries. Much worse. But you … seeing you, so beat up with every breath labored (knowing you’d just got done fighting for your life) and shaky? For the first time of the night Billy cries, just a few tears, he’s trying to be strong for Stu. For you. But even he can’t stop the few angry tears that escape. 

They’re advised to go home. At first they don’t. Eventually they do. For two weeks you’re asleep. Medically induced coma for your own good. In that time they call teachers, family, friends, anyone who you’d want to know about your condition. Flowers, balloons, teddy bears, and cards from well wishers and loved ones alike begin to fill your room.

Everyone eagerly awaits your waking. When you’re finally brought out of the mini-coma you’re given a few hours to come to and adjust before visitors are brought in.

Stu and Billy are nearly jumping out of their skin waiting to see you. To see your beautiful eyes looking back at them. To hear your voice, their favorite sound in the world.

Then they get pulled aside by your doctor before they’re allowed into the room. Their face kind in the way someone who’s about to give you horrible news always is. Billy and Stu have to hold each other, sensing another brick-load of troubles about to hit them. By all means they’re at the edge of both patience and fucking sanity. 

What more could go wrong? What more could they take before they just started rampaging? Before they grabbed this doctor by their stupid, bad news breaking face and smashed it to a pulp and-

“Retrograde episodic memory loss,” The casually decided upon problem of the week. Amnesia. Fucking amnesia. But it doesn’t really sink in until they walk into the room anyway, doctor following close behind and you look up but there’s no recognition there. Curiosity. But you don’t reach out for them, wanting to hold them, needing them to hold you. There’s no tears of joy. No         anything. 

That first “meeting” doesn’t go well. Weeks of stress boiling over at this one last slight dealt against you three. Billy is the one to snap and Stu follows close behind. They’re escorted out of the room but not the hospital.

The doctor talks to them in more understanding and hushed tones that only make them feel murderous. “This will be a difficult period of-” Stu doesn’t hear the rest. Too busy laughing like a madman. Difficult couldn’t begin to cover the full scope of loss they’ve felt when they looked into your eyes and hadn’t felt you looking back. 

You go home with them eventually. You wanted to go stay with your parents or the handful of friends that you remember but the doctor suggests against it and so do the other people in your life. Jogging the memory best done in a familiar environment and whether you know it or not the environment that’s most familiar to you is the home you share with the boys. Your boys, apparently. 

They’d made an impression on you but it had been poor to say the least. Their anger intense and terrifying. There’d been sadness too, obviously, but it was the anger that had stuck with you. It left a pit of …not fear, but something close in your stomach.

It’s family and the hospital staff that soothe your nerves enough to allow the boys to take you home. The nurses telling you just how worried and doting they’d been during your coma. Almost always at your bedside. All the people you love (and can still remember) telling you how incredible your relationship had always seemed. How happy you’d been with them.

So you go “home”. 

It’s not easy. They’re perfect strangers to you and your the love of their lives. None of you knows what to do. How to act. How to deal with one another.

The first night is a special type of hell. They show you around the house, Billy radiating displeasure even as his voice is neutral. You get takeout and sit on the couch and don’t ask all the questions you want to because it doesn’t feel….right. You all pretend not to stare at each other. 

When it’s time to go to bed you change in the bathroom but after a moment of hesitation you do crawl into bed with them. You’re not able to sleep. Deeply uncomfortable with how these two men you don’t know hold you with such familiarity. You put up with it for a few more days before you tell them you’d rather sleep in the guest room for awhile. Things, shockingly, do not get better from there. 

Billy retreats into himself. Doesn’t know how to handle you not remembering him. Insecurity and anger blending to make the perfect storm within him. He tries to fight against it. Knows this isn’t your fault and that you’re the victim of this but some part of him is perceiving the whole thing as one giant rejection. The ultimate abandonment. You can stand right in front of him and feel nothing while he’s trapped feeling fucking everything. 

Stu is doing his best to be his usual self. Trying to be positive and happy for you and Billy both. It’s hard. Whenever you don’t get an inside joke. When you try to politely shrug away from affection that you used to melt into. It’s hard despite all his smiling and posturing. He doesn’t know what else to do but try and act like things are normal. 

Eventually you start asking them questions. About themselves. About you. About your relationship. They answer them all of course.

Stu with enthusiasm no matter what you’d asked. Desperately hoping something he tells you will jump-start any part of your memory. The amount of details he’ll throw at you from you asking the simplest of questions can make your head swim at times. But it’s endearing to, how much he’s trying to help.

Billy answers but there’s always a tightness to his jaw and a closed off look in his eyes. Like he’s angry you can’t remember. Sometimes he’ll be dutifully sharing a particularly important memory or story with you and some of that coldness will melt away for a moment. Then he’ll remember why he’s sharing the story with you like he would a stranger and not someone who also experienced the moment with him and that warmth is gone instantly. 

Stu is out picking up dinner when you finally decide to address the elephant in the room. You figure one at a time is easier and Billy is definitely the more difficult of the two. 

“I’m sorry I don’t remember." 

"What?” Billy asks even though he’d heard you fine. You’d seen his body tense the moment you began to talk. 

“I’m sorry I don’t remember.” You reach for the remote and pause the horror movie that’s onscreen. The final girl facing down the monster that’s been hunting her. You turn to Billy to do the same.

It’s about time you all faced the monster you’ve been running from instead of fighting. The full reality of everything instead of tiptoeing around it. 

“I’m sorry. But it isn’t my fault I don’t remember." 

"I know it’s not your fault.” An automated answer and it makes you snap. 

“Then act like it." 

His eyes meet yours for the first time in weeks. There’s not the usual coldness there. There’s a heat to them. Anger. Well perfect, you happen to be angry at him too. You grab the closest pillow and chuck it at him. He catches it and the anger settles on the rest of his face and not just in his eyes.

"Fucking act like it! You walk around and you act like I wanted to forget you and Stu. I got into an accident and now I can’t remember jack shit and it’s not just hard on you, okay? It’s hard for me too. It’s harder on me. Do you get that?” You demand.

“I-”

“I’m trying! I’m trying to remember and I’m trying to be normal but I don’t even know what my normal would look like anymore. And everyone tells me how good we all were together and I wish you’d show me that. Because I need …. I need some fucking support right now and if I don’t get it from you who am I supposed to get it from?” Tears fall from your eyes and you wipe the first of them away but before you know it you’re crying so hard you can barely breathe. 

“Hey. Hey, don’t-” A hand reaches out to grabs yours and tug you insistently towards the other end of the couch. You’re settled against Billy, his arms wrapping around you and his lips pressed into your hair, “I’m sorry, okay? I’ve been an asshole-”

“A huge asshole.” You interrupt, huffing against his chest.

“-A huge asshole.” He concedes, squeezing you tighter, “I was …in my own head and wasn’t thinking about how much shittier this is for you. I'm         sorry." 

There’s a long moment of silence in the room but it’s not uncomfortable for once. You can imagine in a different set of circumstances laying in his arms for hours without saying a word. The sort of comfort that comes from knowing someone intimately for years.

Your tears dry up but you don’t pull away at first. You shift ever so slightly and Billy goes to let you go (even though he doesn’t want to). When you just settle more heavily against him and even move to hold him back he sighs in relief. This is the first time he’s touched you meaningfully in months. He was starting to forget how good it felt to hold you. 

"You don’t apologize much do you?” You ask quietly, but there’s teasing in your voice and Billy doesn’t bristle like he wants to. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Thought you were choking on the words for a second back there.” You pull back just enough so he can see your face and start to mimic how he’d forced out the word, “Sor …Soooorr-”

“Shut up.” Before the amnesia he would’ve kissed you to make you quiet. Now he just tugs you back into his chest where he can feel you shake against him with laughter instead of tears. It’s enough. 

“Are you guys cuddling without me?” Stu gasps with contrived betrayal (that’s maybe tinged with real upset). One hand full of takeout while the other is pressed dramatically to his chest.

“Yes.” You say even as you peak over the back of the couch to give Stu a grin, “But Billy’s kinda bony so get over here and make us all more comfortable please.”

You spend the rest of the night curled up like this. The takeout gets cold before you three can force yourselves to pull away from the first bit of comfort you’ve had in ages. There’s still plenty of conversations to be had and a long road to recovery but this is a first step. 

As you watch Stu try to sneak food from Billy’s plate and get smacked for his troubles you think it’s a pretty good first step to make. 

                                                     ——————– 

[gamzee-the-capricious-fanfic]

Chapter 5

The next day you can barely focus on your classes. All you can think about is your “date” with Tavros. You pester Karkat all day about what you should do and he is starting to get frustrated and annoyed.

“Gamzee! Just. Be. Yourself. Goddamn. I don’t know how many times I have to say it to get the fucking concept through your thick skull you fucking dipshit. I swear the message would get through to even the smallest insect. They don’t even fucking understand our language! That is how stupid you are being!” 

“Clearly being myself has gotten me absolutely nowhere.” You gesture wildly at yourself. “Apparently this motherfucker only gives off ‘lets be friends and only that’ vibes!” You pull at your hair in frustration. “Why am I like this!”

“Dude, fucking chill out before you give yourself a seizure or something.” 

You gasp. “I didn’t even think about that! What if the movie has a bunch of flashing lights!!! I heard that I should avoid movies with flashing lights if I have seizures. Motherfuck that would be motherfuckin embarrassing as shit!”

“Wow, your only worry is getting embarrassed is it? Not the fact that seizures are a very serious thing and can lead to you being seriously hurt or like you could die but yeah, don’t want to seem less cool of course.” Karkat sighs. “Why am I the only one who takes this seriously. 

“Bro, the way Tavros perceives me is super motherfuckin serious.”

“Ok first off, do you have to say motherfuck in every sentence you say? Also I doubt Tavros would think of you any less if that happened. Besides it would probably make you even more pitiable.” 

“Yes. But anyway so, what you are all up in putting down is that I should see a movie with a bunch of flashing lights so Tavros gets all motherfuckin worried about me? That is brilliant Karkat.” 

“Goddammit Gamzee! NO!” Karkat looks like he is about to explode and go on a serious rant but you cut him off.

“Kar I’m just joking I promise!” you chuckle. “I may look like a dumb motherfucker but I promise I’m not stupid.”

“You’re right you do look stupid. Like the most stupid, Imagine Trump, then put some clown makeup over that orange ass face and you are that stupid.” Dave chimes in. You didn’t even realize he was there with you guys. You glower at him. 

“What is a Trump?” You ask.

“Wow, uh like the current president. The one who isn’t Obama. We fuckin wish Obama was back. Brilliant person. Cared about the economy man. It’s all about the economy. Like imagine Obama, imagine him saying “the economy is bad” and we are all like “oh no!” but then he is just like “I’m going to fix it.” and you feel serene listening to that beautiful voice of his but then Trump waltzes in and just fucks it. Like literally, wrinkly dick right up in there. I don’t know about you but the economy with Trump’s dick deep in it is not a good economy dude.”

You understood none of that. You open your mouth as if to reply and nothing comes to you. Damn. Eventually you manage a weak: "Who is Ob-"

"Don't even finish that sentence." 

You look to Karkat for some backup or something but he's just smiling lightly at Dave with a red tinge to his face. You look back and forth between them and come to a realization. You give Karkat an exasperated look. "Bro, really?" 

He looks at you confused for a second then realizes that you know about his little crush. "Anyway Gam yeah just go for it, it's just a movie right?" He says that loudly with a fake laugh at the end desperately trying to change the subject. Dave raises an eyebrow but his face remains unreadable. His stupid face pisses you off. Yet also attracts you. Ah the complexity of black romance. Honestly you never expected to feel black feelings towards anyone. You never really disliked any of your friends to that point. Well, Vriska annoys you, you don't like how mean she is to Tavros but that is different.

 For the next few hours you agonize over this movie date. Should you take him to dinner? Is that too much? Then if you did where should you go? There's too many questions and Karkat is tired of you pestering him with said questions. You decide you might as well ask Tavros what he wants to do. Talkin is so much easier over text. 

 TC: HeY tAvBrO, wAnNa Go GeT sOmE wIcKeD aSs GrUb BeFoRe ThE mOvIe?

You wait staring at your phone screen. After a minute you get fidgety and so you get up and pace around the room biting your lip absentmindedly. It takes 5 minutes for Tavros to respond but to you it felt like forever.

AT: uH,,, yEAH SURE

Thats it. You waited 5 minutes for that. You groan in frustration. Ok, just gotta ask him where he'd want to go then. 

TC:  AnY pReFeReNcE mY mOtHeRfUcKeR?

Now you play the waiting game, again. You expected a quick reply since he just answered your previous text but you sure expected wrong. It takes a good 15 minutes before your phone finally goes off.

AT: nO PREFERENCE REALLY } : )

God dammit Tavros. Now you have to think of somewhere to go. You have literally little to no sense of taste, and you are supposed to pick a place. And you KNOW everyone has a preference. They say they don't but then you pick a place and then they are all up and like 'oh, not that place' and the cycle repeats itself. Alright, you gotta play that fuckin reverse card shit.

TC: WeLl T-dOg, YoU kNoW i DoN't AlL uP aNd HaVe A sEnSe Of TaStE rIgHt NoW sO mAyBe YoU sHoUlD pIcK. :o) 

Take that motherfucker. Now the pressure of choosing should be off your chest now. You receive another text. 

AT: oH,,, uH,,, mAYBE WE SHOULDN'T GO OUT FOR FOOD THEN,

For fucks sake. 

TC: We StIlL cAn, I jUsT wOuLdN't Be GoOd At ChOoSiNg Is AlL tAv. 

AT: uH,,, oK THEN, iT MIGHT TAKE ME A WHILE TO UH,,, dECIDE THOUGH,

TC: DoN't MaTtEr To Me BrO, tAkE aLl ThE tImE yOu NeEd :o)

 Finally, progress. You love Tavros but this whole date thing has got you on edge. You need to calm your shit. You try to think of something to do in the meantime but only one thing comes to mind. It’s time to get a little bit high. You know it’s not a great idea and Tavros would disapprove of this but It would soothe your nerves and that is what you need. You spend 30 minutes at your spot, you decided the place you first smoked weed at is now your place to go. It is quiet and peaceful over there so it is a good spot to go to get away from everyone because only you know about it. Now, it didn’t take you 30 minutes to smoke by any means but it was so calming to be there so you ended up staying longer than you intended to.  By the time you finally check your phone for the time you see it is 10 minutes before you are supposed to meet Tavros for your date! You curse yourself for being so careless and you start heading back to the dorm building. 

However, as you are heading towards the dorm building you get stopped by a group of trolls. At first you didn’t realize their intent was to stop you but as soon as you tried to go around them they circled you. There are 5 trolls, at a quick glance they all appear to be blue bloods. You give them a lazy smile, as if you are not worried at all. Of course you are not stupid, they want to cause trouble and you are prepared for that but for now you just say: 

“What can a motherfucker do for y’all?”

They are all giving you dirty looks, disgust even. The leader, at least you assume so, steps forward. 

“I just want to know how a disgusting runt of a highblood like you didn’t get culled.”

You laugh, “Well seeing as me and you are around the same height how does that make me a runt to you exactly?” 

He ignores that. “Just look at you, weak, stunted, and you look practically skeletal. Not to mention your sopor addiction. What fucking idiot would come up with the idea to consume that?”

“Look, I got somewhere to be motherfucker, you can spout all the hate you want but maybe at a later time.” You are getting impatient, Tavros must be wondering where you are. 

“Wow, you are as stupid as you look huh. You aren’t going anywhere ‘motherfucker’. We are going to do you a favor and just pity cull you.” 

He gestures to the others and they start advancing towards you. He looks so cocky and sure of himself. “We will see about that then.” Your smile widens, almost predatory. It is very slight but you swear you see a flash of fear in the lead troll’s eyes. One of the trolls decaptchalogues his weapon, a serrated edged blade, and leaps towards you. You casually step aside dodging his attack. You grab the back of his shirt as he trips past and lifting him with ease you throw him at one of the trolls trying to attack you from behind. The remaining three still standing realize that coming at you one at a time will not work. They rush towards you all wielding different kinds of blades. You decaptchalogue your clubs and use them to deflect the blades then you kick the troll in front of you, the leader, in the stomach and he collapses heaving. You grab the arm of one of the remaining trolls pulling her towards you unbalancing her before you slam a club down on her arm breaking it. She drops her blade with a scream. The other one who rushed you stabs towards you and you just barely move out of the way getting nicked slightly on your side. He smiles triumphantly before you grab him by the hair and slam a knee into his face effectively knocking him out. You hear movement behind you but before you can move you feel a sharp stinging pain in your shoulder.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” You hiss in pain and look to see an arrow lodged in your shoulder. Now you are fucking pissed. You whirl and snarl angrily at the troll who shot you. His face pales seeing you enraged. You advance towards him and you can see him shaking, frozen with fear. You stand in front of him now and you grab his bow from his shaking hands and you snap it in half. The terrified troll whimpers and stutters. “P-p-please don’t h-hurt me. I-It was all Xaleeb’s idea!” He points towards the leader troll who was just starting to get to his feet. “I don’t give a flying fuck bro.” You punch the fucker in the face, knocking him out. Everything screams in you to kill these trolls but you keep yourself in check just barely, never again do you want your rage to run wild. You look towards the lead troll and growl. 

“If you know what is good for you motherfucker I would get the fuck out of here.”

He glares at you eyes full of hate. “This isn’t over highblood, watch your back.” 

He and the other conscious trolls run off leaving those who are unconscious. You captchalogue your clubs again and check your phone, you are almost an hour late, the fight felt so fast how the fuck did the time fly by so quick? You groan then wince as your shoulder throbs reminding you of the arrow stuck in your shoulder. Goddammit. You rush back to the dorms ignoring the shocked looks, yeah you have an arrow in your shoulder and you are bleeding, so what. You are panting by the time you open the door to the dorm. Dave, Karkat, and Tavros look towards you, Karkat stands looking angry and as if he is going to tell you off before he notices the arrow sticking out of your shoulder and his face turns to concern. “Sorry I am late Tav, got a bit hung up for a moment.” 

Karkat sputters for a moment before finally finding his voice. “Hung up for a bit!? Gamzee you have a fucking arrow in your fucking shoulder!” 

You ignore that and walk up to Tavros, he looks as though he had been crying. You gently cup his face with your hands and you can see fresh tears forming in his eyes. Before you can stop yourself you lean down and gently kiss him. His lips are just as soft as you imagined them to be but all to soon you back off now worried about his reaction. 

“Ah, shit bro sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” 

Your voice trails off and you can’t look at him. You totally fucked up, this isn’t the way you wanted to do this. Tavros gently grabs your arm and you look at him confused, he pulls your arm down and towards him making you stoop slightly before he kisses you. You are sure you are blushing profusely, if you didn’t know any better you would think you were dreaming but the sharp throbbing pain in your shoulder tells you otherwise. When he pulls away you can see that he too is blushing profusely. You chuckle softly and Tavros giggles looking hella cute. 

“Uh, sorry to interrupt your little red fest but Gamzee you are literally fucking bleeding out onto the floor in case you forgot!”

You grimace, yeah, that is true. Tavros looks at your shoulder worry written all over his face. 

“Uh,, you should probably get that looked at Gamzee.” 

“Don’t you worry Tavbro I’m sure I’ll be ok.” He doesn’t look convinced. He looks to Karkat for support. 

“All right Gamzee, you are coming with me.” Karkat grabs you by the arm and pulls you out the door. You honk in surprise. 

Karkat practically drags you all the way to another dorm room down the hall from yours. He knocks impatiently. It takes a second but Rose answers the door.  

“Hey Rose, can you get Kanaya for me?” Rose looks at Karkat then at you, her eyes drifting to the arrow poking out of your shoulder. 

“Sure.” 

Rose goes back into the room leaving the door open a crack. You can hear her call for Kanaya and then some soft murmuring. After a second Kanaya comes to the door. 

“It seems you had an accident Gamzee?”

“You could say that.” You smile sheepishly. 

Kanaya gestures the two of you inside. “May I ask why you have an arrow in your shoulder Gamzee?” 

“Just a little altercation is all. Not too big of a deal.” You shrug then wince and curse as a sharp pain runs through your shoulder, ok, best not to do that. 

Kanaya tuts watching you. “If you say so, let’s see what we got then.” Kanaya gestures for you to sit and you do so. She grabs a black case and opens it. Inside there looks to be both sewing utensils and first aid. She then looks closely at the arrow in your shoulder and hums. “It appears luck is not on your side Gamzee. This arrow has barbs all down the shaft of it so it is not going to come out easy. I may need some assistance.” 

You groan, “Of course the motherfuckers used barbed arrows, cowardly little shits.”  

Kanaya types on her phone for a second and within a minute there is a knock on the door. 

“Come in” Kanaya calls. 

The door opens and Equius comes in. “I heard you needed assistance highblood.” 

You give a crooked smile, “Seems so, I guess pulling a motherfuckin arrow out of my shoulder by myself is unadvised.” 

He perks up at the mention of an arrow, he always was obsessed with archery even if he couldn’t do it himself on account of his ridiculous strength. He approaches you and studies the arrow “It is a good quality arrow, I would presume a higher blood owned it?” He doesn’t give you time to answer before he goes on. “Though it is unfortunate they used barbs, cowardly really.” He starts rambling about what type of arrows a respectable troll would use but you zone it out. You watch blood ooze from your shoulder wound. You think it’s quite a motherfuckin beautiful sight really. You imagine painting with your own blood, first just an image but then you think about how you could paint miraculous designs on Tavros, imagining the cool toned purple blood on his more warmer toned gray skin, fuck that’s hot. You shake your head clearing out that weird fantasy and focus again on what’s going on around you. Apparently Equius had been calling your name a few times. He sounds very exasperated. 

“Shit sorry bro, got a lil lost in my own thinkpan for a second.” He gives you a disapproving look. 

“Like I was saying Makara, I am going to break the head off of this arrow, it may jostle the wound.” He waits seemingly seeking permission. 

“Go ahead bro” 

He nods then grips part of the arrow sticking out from your shoulder to steady it, the action causes a sharp pain in your shoulder but you do not react. He then quickly snaps the head off the arrow, the movement of that causing you to hiss in pain. 

“My apologies highblood.” He is starting to sweat a bit profusely. 

You wish he would stop calling you that but with all the times you’ve told him to stop it, so far it has not worked. “It’s all up and just fine bro, just can we get the motherfucking thing out of my shoulder now?” 

You would really like nothing more than to get this over with and hang out with Tav. Equius nods and steps slightly behind you now placing one hand on your shoulder trying not to hurt you and the other grips the back of the arrow. “This will hurt, a lot.” 

And with that he rips the arrow out of your shoulder. The pain is intense and you can just feel the barbs shredding your flesh, you cannot help the scream that comes ripping out of your throat. Then your body locks up and your vision fades, the last thing you hear is: “Oh fiddlesticks.” 

[anarchistsuggestion]

hey, vaccinate your kids you jerks!!!

thanks for coming to my essay! now that i have your attention, i think we should stop talking about anti-vaxxers like theyre all backwards hyper-religious dumbasses. like, im frustrated too, and i agree that "personal/religious reasons" should not allow someone to keep their kids unvaccinated. furthermore, as an autistic person, i despise the myth that vaccines cause autism. i especially hate that it scares people into avoiding vaccines, because theres nothing wrong with me.

but ridiculing these people will only make the problem worse, and here's why: i think that a lot of anti-vaxxers and their communities are used to feeling like the most important aspects of their cultural identities are universally mocked or demonised (im not qualified to say whether these feelings reflect reality in every case, but either way im just talking about feelings, ie, what people think we believe about their culture). for instance, my only knowledge of amish people comes from jokes ive seen others make about them. yes, none of these jokes were very serious, and its easy for me to laugh at them because im not amish, but despite my low empathy i can understand that it just feels bad to hear a whole bunch of jokes about something important to you. i'll get back to this point in a moment.

anyway, i bring up the amish because in 2014, there were measles outbreaks in some amish communities in Ohio. and i think that a lot of the people who dont vaccinate their kids are used to being ridiculed for their "weird" or "new age" or "hyper-religious" or "unchristian" lifestyles, so they just see our concern as more of that mockery. we all sound the same to them, and cant you see why?

"ughh all these people ignoring science and being stubborn about vaccines because their church said--" you sound like one of those atheists. if you cant say anything productive, please stay out of the discussion. why do you act like ridiculing people will change their minds? we should be reaching out, instead.

we need to make the effort to approach anti-vaxxers in a way that distinguishes us from those who only converse with them to mock them.

i want more people to understand that the best way to change someone's mind when they're defensive is by listening. you need to be willing to accept whatever they might rant about, and respect that, even if their fears seem ridiculous, even if their fears are rooted in ableism, their fears still terrify them. thats why theyre called fears. you can validate someone's feelings of anxiety and confusion without validating their bigotry, and you must be willing to accept that this is work. this is difficult. it's much, much harder than yelling your opinions. it's exhausting, and sometimes it doesn't even pay off. sometimes you just can't convince somebody, and you have to be able to accept that.

if this seems too hard for you, i have good news: you do not have to do it. this kind of thing is not for everyone, and it's okay if you just don't want to. this doesn't have to be your responsibility.

i only ask that you stop making things worse by (performatively, in the case of yall who arent in danger of dying/losing a loved one to a preventable disease) mocking anti-vaxxers, because we are the ones who need something from them. we are asking them to face their fears (which were sometimes instilled in them very early in their childhood) for the good of humanity. i don't know about all of you, but i'd be hesitant at best to face even my third worst fear (spiders) for the sake of strangers who regularly mock my culture and heritage, and i know for a fact that most spiders cannot harm me!

this is natural. this is human. it is easy to dismiss things you dont understand, and it's even easier to dismiss them when all the scientific evidence agrees with you. however, your evidence does not make these people's experiences and fears less real for them. it does not lessen the effect their fear has on their choices. knowing that a tarantula won't hurt me if i follow certain guidelines will not stop me from shaking and having a breakdown if i think too hard about touching one. knowing that nothing bad would happen doesn't motivate me to go over to the science building at my college and ask to hold their fucking tarantula.

there are no shortcuts here. if we want anti-vaxxers to accept vaccines and stop putting so much effort towards keeping their children unvaccinated, we have to convince them that they don't need to be afraid of vaccines. we need to actually address their concerns. telling them their fears are ridiculous is just not convincing no matter how much scientific evidence you have. this discussion has become too performative. people just tell anti-vaxxers to vaccinate their kids, and they dont bother to address the fear that motivates their opponents. they don't care that they're asking people to trust a yelling internet stranger with their child's health.

it is inconsiderate to demand things from people without stopping to think about what you're asking for. please think about it from their point of view. if vaccines were dangerous, and they vaccinated their kids, then anything bad that happened to their kids due to the vaccines would be their responsibility. and remember, these people have not been given a convincing reason to believe vaccines are harmless. okay? they do not want to be at fault for their children getting hurt. yes, they are wrong. yes, they are frustrating. yes, they are endangering immunocompromised people like my dad, but there is a huge difference between being malicious and being misguided. please do not treat them like they set out to hurt you.

also? stop telling them to care about other people when you don't care enough about them to respect that they're doing their best with the resources they have. stop saying "i dont know how to explain to you that you should care about other people" when you really just want them to magically stop being scared. maybe you say it out of genuine frustration and bewilderment, but when everyone is saying it, it comes across like a smug 'gotcha!' phrase that excuses you from spending more energy on the debate. you can just say youre tired and stop.

i am trying to explain to you that you should care that these people have felt scammed/hurt by the medical industry enough times that they feel justified in risking the health of their whole family (assuming they even think vaccines work). you should care that theyve never been given a convincing reason to trust remedies promoted by rich strangers who make claims that sound too good to be true. the government has promoted harmful things to underprivileged people before, like milk (it took me a half hour to sift through unrelated stuff about soy milk to confirm this, so i'll go ahead and link my source). it is logical to mistrust an industry that operates for the profit of people youve never met. not everyone trusts the FDA to keep the pharmaceutical industry in check, and it's actually pretty smart to rely on direct accounts from people you know personally when you aren't sure how well something actually works, and you dont trust the ones selling it to you.

with that in mind, talking to people is probably the best way to tackle this issue, but many of you haven't bothered to compile introductory information about vaccines. you havent bothered to present these resources in a way that doesn't ridicule people who are scared. i am trying to explain to you that you shouldn't debate with people if you won't treat them like humans. i am trying to explain to you that "you dont actually care about others" is a hurtful and manipulative sentiment, and when you say it to people who are trying their best, you become part of the problem. you reinforce their mistrust. i am trying to explain to you that trusting doctors doesnt make you morally superior.

put yourself in their shoes for a moment. imagine that someone comes up to you and makes it clear that they think the choices you've made as a parent are ridiculous. they make claims about your child without offering proof, or the only proof they offer also mocks you and people like you (or they just tell you to "google it"). furthermore, they tell you that unless you give in, something bad will happen to their own children, and it will be your fault.

this is manipulative. even if you are correct, it is manipulative. demanding that someone treat their child in a way that they consider harmful is just ridiculous and i don't know why you expect people to listen to you. do you expect this to be easy? do you honestly believe that if someone isn't converted within minutes, they're just being stubborn? do you think these people know the truth, and only persist out of spite?

these questions are necessary, because many of you talk about anti-vaxxers as though the answer is 'yes.' there is a difference between being correct and treating people right. please be more aware of that line in the future, and do your best not to cross it.

oh, and by the way, if i see any of you using this year's measles outbreaks as an excuse to be hateful towards jewish people, i will block and report you. antivaxxers usually arent malicious, and if you perceive orthodox jewish antivaxxers as being worse than other antivaxxers, you need to rethink your beliefs. they arent rejecting vaccines just to hurt you. maybe theyre tired of being demonised and blamed for everything from climate change to unemployment to dead kids*, and theyre unwilling to trust random people with something as important as the health of their children when a lot of us have never bothered to listen to their struggles. (* ive seen a whole lot of people saying things that border on blood libel without quite involving blood during these discussions, so can we all agree to be careful not to do anything that resembles that shit now that ive provided a handy link about what it is? thanks)

lastly, all of this criticism of anti-anti-vaxxers is very easy for me to say because i have less of a personal stake in the issue. i know it must hurt in a way i can't currently understand to lose someone to a preventable disease. if i have made anyone feel dismissed or invalidated in this essay post, i'm sorry for doing so, and i want to make it clear that it is okay if you hate anti-vaxxers. i know their fear has hurt you, and i wouldn't ask you to pretend otherwise. i dont want to make any of you feel like you shouldn't talk about your experiences and fears. i'm just asking that, before you hit the post button, you read through your post and edit out anything manipulative or guilt-trippy. your contributions to this conversation are valuable, and i want the people youre trying to convince to be able to read them without feeling like they have to defend themselves instead of listening to you. the culture around this debate has become almost hostile, and while we dont all need to work directly with anti-vaxxers to make it better, we do all need to agree to stop making it worse.

[ecfandom]

So, I got this less than pleasant comment on AO3 last night, and wanted to address some things and have a productive discussion, for those interested. 

Let’s start with the facts: 

1. Everyone is entitled to an opinion, and I have always tried to be vocal about welcoming opinions, criticism, etc. That’s all great. 

2. We are not all going to agree on the same things, and that’s okay. 

3. Unless otherwise has been earned (and rarely is there a situation that I can think of where this aggressiveness, etc. is earned in the context of the relationship between authors and readers), kindness, respect and understanding, or at the very least CIVILITY, should be the go-to. 

Now, here are the opinions. The opinion in this comment is that Lexa’s involvement in the military in Polis 433, and my writing of her experiences, is “blantanly [sic] mastubatory army propoganda.” I have a few issues with this. One, for someone who clearly has a problem with the military (so do I, it’s okay, I get it), this is quite militaristic and aggressive, don’t you think? Hello, hypocrisy, you rise again! 

Two, as someone who has many, many issues with the military, especially with the brownwashing and enemy washing of what the United States perceives to be its enemies, I took intentional care to try to offer a multi-faceted view of the military in this fic...it’s also important to be mindful of that fact that this story is far from over...including this particular “Memorial Day” section of this story. Now, maybe this person isn’t on Tumblr, and doens’t know that, and that’s fine, but that’s why I always encourage people to use patience when they are feeling upset about something...you never know, maybe it will resolve itself to your liking and you won’t feel the need to comment things like this. Or maybe it won’t resolve itself, you will remained pissed, and you’ll want to leave a nasty comment anyways. I would encourage you to do the easiest thing...stop reading what you don’t like. 

Back to what I tried to do as an author in presenting multiple views points and ideologies. Namely, there’s Clarke’s conversation with Michael in Chapter 6. Believe it or not, I didn’t put this conversation in the story for shits and giggles. I intentionally wrote it to challenge Clarke’s take on the military, a take that she acquired from growing up in a military family and having it romanticized all her life: 

Michael: “My family has done enough taking of lives for a few generations. Figured I’d try to save some for a change.”

“That’s an interesting take on the military.”

“You disagree?”

Clarke props her head on her fist. “Not necessarily. It’s complicated.”

“Nothing complicated about picking up a gun and taking a life.”

“But that’s not all there is to the military. I mean, a lot of it is about saving lives. Keeping the peace. Ensuring democracy and human rights.”

“It’s none of our business.”

“Isn’t it? Isn’t it our business if we can do something to help?”

“Have we really helped?”

Clarke squints at him and smiles, not quite agreeing, not disagreeing, but appreciating the discourse all the same.

Okay, so there’s that. There’s also my author’s note on chapter 8: 

“...I hate war. I hate the death and how awfully it affects our Veterans and their families. I hate the way it's depicted in Hollywood, brown washing the "Middle East" as if it were this one Bad Thing made up of Enemies. I try to stay away from the topic, but I hope in this case, I've done an okay job at keeping things real. Always let me know if there are problems.”

Mmkay, moving on. How about Lexa’s own internal feelings about the subject thus far...

Regarding the Medal of Honor: Her jaw bulges under the force of her teeth trying to stamp out the overwhelming discomfort rolling in nauseating waves through her. “I can’t stand wearing this,” she mutters, her voice raw and thin. (Chapter 8)

She gives her uniform another tug, unable to keep her hands still. They shook in this uniform now. For years she’d worn her Army Blues with pride and a staunch duty to her job and her country. Now, the material feels abrasive against her skin, the collar like a hand tightening around her throat. There’s blood on this uniform that would never come out. Though not literal, it stained just as deeply, ruined just as thoroughly. She couldn’t stand to be in this uniform anymore... (Chapter 8)

She raises her weapon, focusing again. She has three seconds, maybe five.  Her hands shake, her chest heaves. What the fuck was a pacifist doing in the United States Army? They killed her friends, and still, Lexa’s finger trembled in conflict atop the trigger. (Chapter 8)

Lexa stares back, wondering how the world had gotten to this place of hate. Genuinely sorry for whatever had happened to this man to turn him into what he was. Sorry that the world is at war. Sorry for killing so many. (Chapter 8)

So there’s that. And I’m sure that some of this may be problematic, that I might not have as thorough an understanding as I should, and that mistakes will be made, but that’s why I put this out there--to learn, to hear your thoughts, to try to become a better author and global citizen. There is still so much more to come in this story, and so much more of why Lexa’s background is important to the present,  how she got to where she is, and who she is as a person, etc.

I hate America’s war machine. I hate the violence, and I really struggled with whether or not to take this story in this direction, but I told myself that if I promised to try to approach this military content in a multi-faceted, complex way that had various view points and characters being challenged, that I would continue to explore this side of the story and decide later if it would make it into the final version of the story after editing and cutting it down. Maybe I failed, and I am more than happy to hear my readers’ thoughts and criticisms. This comment, however, was not that. This was comment, and commenter, was looking to pick a fight. I don’t normally award these kinds of people with my time or attention, but I chose to for this one because of what I said above...I wanted to open up a discussion. 

I would love to hear what others think about my handling of the military in this story. I’m very curious, because I was very hesitant to put it in here since glorifying the military does not align with my personal values. I respect everyone’s right to make their own decisions about enlisting, and I think that as long as we have veterans we need to take better care of them, but I don’t have any interest in romanticizing the military, the violence, or the racist rhetoric and greedy consumerism that drives wars. That being said, I challenged myself to write a story that had themes that did not necessarily align with my own personal views on the matter, and to write protagonists that I would find problematic in real life, as long as I challenged what I was writing in the writing itself. Perhaps I did not succeed in making that apparent within the story. I had the hopes that I could experiment with these characters and watch them grow.

That being said though, if my experimenting, or my lack of understanding has hurt anyone, I want to know that. I am fully invested in understanding, appreciating, and supporting the importance of representation and author responsibility and liability. So please, never stop giving me your thoughts and opinions. But please do stop looking to pick fights. It’s not worth anyone’s time. Go out for a walk, get some fresh air and sunshine, or do something else you enjoy. A writer writing something you don’t like is not worth your emotional expense, especially when you can just stop reading. Likewise, it’s not worth a writer’s emotional expense to receive your tantrums in their inbox. If you want to have a civil conversation about your disagreements, criticism, etc., great. If you want to throw a fit or are looking to pick a fight, don’t bother. It’s just not worth anyone’s time. Just walk away from what you don’t like. It’s that simple, and it’s better for everyone. 

End rant. 

[vateacancameos]

Here We Are As In Olden Days, Part 6

Day 6 of @missdaviswrites  December Sherlock ficlet challenge.

6 December, Cold

Sherlock | pre-slash/developing Johnlock | Ficlet | ao3 link

“You’ll love this one, you said. You’ll get free food, you said. It’s all Christmasy, you said. You failed to mention I’d be picking out my own food while stuck in a walk-in freezer!”

John rants—half to himself, seeing as Sherlock stopped paying attention to him five minutes ago—as he paces for warmth. John hopes Sherlock is working on a plan to get them out, but with John’s phone dead and Sherlock’s on the other side of the very thick, very locked freezer door, John’s not sure what they’ll do. Why don’t these things come with failsafes? Oh right, they do, but those failsafes don’t take into account having the door jammed by a suspect from the outside.

The case had been simple enough. The sous chef was stealing from the restaurant to bank his wife’s Christmas-themed pop-up restaurant. It was supposed to be just a quick in and out to find the evidence in the restaurant’s office, but the sous chef had surprised them—and been surprised by them—by showing up early. He’d recognized them immediately, managed to knock them both out, and dumped them in the freezer. John had awakened to Sherlock pounding on the door fifteen minutes ago.

Sherlock is quiet now, hunched in his coat, gloved fingers steepled in their usual thinking position, eyes closed.

It’s funny, but even though Sherlock woke him far too early this morning only for them to be locked in a freezer, there’s nowhere John would rather be. Even over a month after Sherlock’s return from the dead, John still marvels that the man is alive, and that he’s come back to John. He could have gone anywhere, done anything. Hell, he could’ve returned to London, reinstated himself at Baker Street, but still refused to let John move back in, but he hadn’t. When John had shown up after he broke things off with Mary, Sherlock had taken one look at him and said, cool as anything, “The room upstairs is still available, if you need it.”

Now it’s back to business as usual. And John will never again complain—too much—about the mad spots they seem to get themselves into. Because Sherlock is back, and John is by his side, and that’s all that matters.

Still, he’s freezing.

“Any ideas?” John asks, tucking his hands under his armpits for warmth as he nudges his friend over so they can share the box Sherlock is sitting on.

“Three, none of them good,” Sherlock replies. He looks at John a moment. “Where are your gloves and scarf?”

“It’s been unseasonably warm, and I didn’t know I was going to be locked in the freezer when we left the flat,” John says accusingly.

“You act like I knew–”

John sighs and shakes his head. “No, sorry. Just not handling the cold well.”

Before John can process it, his neck is ensconced in warm, blue scarf. Hints of Sherlock’s aftershave waft up from the fabric, and John feels so much warmer than the little bit of material should really allow. Since psychosomatic warmth is better than a psychosomatic limp, he allows himself to enjoy it rather than think too hard on the reason for it.

He’d had time to think while Sherlock was away, and he’d confronted his feelings for his friend some time ago. And now that they’ve basically pledged their lives to each other (platonically), he doesn’t have to worry about Sherlock leaving him again. He’s decided he’d be much happier keeping Sherlock in his life and at a friendly distance rather than trying to push romance on a man who has shunned those emotions in favor of keeping his mind sharp. Things like Sherlock sharing his scarf without asking are worth missing out on a little romance. Romance is fleeting anyway. What they have is better. Right?

“Uh, thanks,” John finally says after he’s had his fill of stealth scarf sniffing.

“Keep your hands in your armpits.”

“Yes, Sherlock. I am a doctor,” John replies, knowing his voice is too fond. He doesn’t care. His right leg and arm are mashed against Sherlock’s left side, providing a bit of extra warmth. If he wasn’t freezing his arse off, this wouldn’t be so bad. He tries to think of something to keep his mind off the cold.

“You know, I don’t know the story of how you got started in detective work. Well, I know Carl Powers, but not how you got to know Lestrade or how you started your own business.”

Sherlock cranes his head to look at John, tiny wrinkle of confusion firmly in place between his brows. John doesn’t dwell on how adorable the look is.

“What?” Sherlock asks.

John shrugs. “Trying to pass the time until we get rescued. Need something to take my mind off of the bloody cold. When you were, well, you know, um, gone, I… I thought of a lot of things I wanted to know about you. I thought I’d never get any answers, but I’ve been given a second chance, so… what’s the story?” He shoves down his self-consciousness. Let Sherlock think him a bit odd. He’s not letting his chance go by just because he’s worried about what Sherlock thinks of him.

“You… want to know about my past?” Sherlock seems surprised by this. John hates that. Has he been such a bad friend to Sherlock?

“Of course I do. You’re my best friend. I want to know everything about you.”

John thinks he sees an extra hint of pink in Sherlock’s cold-reddened cheeks, and he feels an answering swoop in his stomach. He tamps down the hope.

“Oh,” Sherlock whispers. He clears his throat. “It wasn’t any one thing really. I’ve always been fascinated with puzzles. The Carl Powers case was my first real hint of it. I had several other events after that turned me on the path, but since you mentioned Lestrade…” He stops a moment, eyes crinkled in fond remembrance, but then he looks down in shame. “I was… high and bored, wandering around London one night.” His eyes dart quickly to John’s and then away.

John pulls his right hand away from the warmth of his body to comfort his friend. Sherlock’s knee is easier to reach than his shoulder, so he risks the move, despite how it could be perceived. Or maybe because of it. “It’s okay,” John reassures as he pats Sherlock’s knee. Sherlock’s wide eyes move back to John’s, and John offers a soft smile. He doesn’t move his hand away. “What happened?”

Sherlock swallows. “I stumbled onto one of Lestrade’s crime scenes. Not even sure how I got there. It was a murdered woman in a sauna in a block of flats, nowhere near mine or anyone else I knew.” He shrugs. “Truth be told, I don’t remember much about the case, but apparently I was coherent enough to explain it to Lestrade. He didn’t believe me, of course. But he gave me a chance to explain myself, since he was completely out of his depth. After the case, he wanted nothing to do with a junkie, of course, but I kept badgering him, trying to alleviate my own boredom. We finally came to an agreement: I get clean, he would let me work on some cold cases. Once I was clean for six months, he let me on a crime scene.”

Greg has never been a huge pushover, despite what some members of the Met claim, but the fact that the reason Sherlock got his act together was because of the DI gives John a new appreciation for the man. “I guess I owe him a few drinks then.”

Sherlock tilts his head. “Why?”

“For keeping you alive before I could take over the job,” John replies softly.

That earns him a smile that makes his heartbeat tick up. “He was the reason I was at Bart’s the day we met, so maybe we owe him a nice bottle of whiskey rather than just a few drinks.”

John laughs. Funny the way one event can be seen different ways. “You know, I’ve always attributed our meeting to Mike.”

Sherlock smiles. “I reckon we owe several people expensive bottles of liquor, if we think about it.”

“That’s Christmas presents wrapped up then, innit? Easy enough.” It’s nice, sharing these little bits they’ve never talked about before. That’s one good thing to come out of two years of awful.

“Yeah.”

They shamelessly grin at each other for a few moments, and John knows Sherlock is enjoying this closeness as much as he is. He hopes it becomes a regular part of their lives, now that they’re each ready to be a bit more open with the other.

A pounding pulls their gazes away from each other and to the freezer door. They see Greg’s face through the door window, and they hear him faintly call that they’ll get the door unjammed in a few moments. As one, John and Sherlock stand, happy to have had the moment, but ready to get back to business.

John’s palm, where it had rested on Sherlock’s knee, is warm.

Beginning | Previous | Next

[izupie]

This started as an idea of exploring Slav’s alternate-reality-vision-powers (that may or may not be real powers, but I just like to think they are because that would be the cOOLEST THING EVER) that turned into Keith and Slav talking about Shiro and ended with some Klance thrown in for good measure //jazz hands//

(Also available on AO3 - [link])

Keith hovered in front of the door to Slav’s new workshop, wrestling with his decision to knock. He hadn’t had much to do with the strange little alien since the battle - he only knew that Allura had given Slav one of the rooms in the castle to use as his personal workshop while he was staying with them. He’d given no indication as to how long that might be however, and had just accepted the gift with about as much gratitude as Keith expected.

(The Princess had said, “We owe you such a debt of gratitude Slav, please feel free to stay in the castle as long as you would like. This room is all yours. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

 And Slav had replied with complete and total conviction, “Of course you couldn’t have done it without me. Without the gravity generator every single plan you had was doomed to fail.”)

 Suddenly Keith felt even less sure about knocking.

 But... He had questions that only Slav could answer. He'd been trying to put them to the back of his mind by keeping busy with all manner of Voltron things; Lion training, inter-planetry relations, cleaning up after the Galra, Bayard training, team building…… But as soon as he slowed down a persistent feeling of cold guilt would seep into his thoughts, twisting into a knot in his chest that only seemed to get bigger the more he pushed it away.

 Where was Shiro? Could they have saved him? Would he come back? Should they be doing more to find him? What if he was waiting for them somewhere? How did he just disappear like that? Was it his fault? 

Keith placed a steadying hand onto the door frame, almost hyperventilating as the guilt swept over him all at once, tightening his chest and making it difficult to breathe. He knew it was almost irrational to blame himself for Shiro’s disappearance - but he just couldn’t stop himself from thinking he could have done more somehow. That’s just how he was. He hated that sometimes you were just powerless to stop certain things from happening.

 The door whooshed open then and Keith jumped backwards in surprise, caught off guard by being so deep into his thoughts.

 “Your hovering outside the door is very distracting.” The little alien’s eyes were wide and he wrung the top set of his hands, keeping the others pushed into their sleeves. “You could have knocked and disturbed me right in the middle of a thought, and then it could have flown right out of my head and I would never be able to get it back. So I’ve been having to think very unimportant things while I waited for you to knock, but I felt a good idea coming on and just decided to let you in.”

 Keith recovered from the initial shock but was still only barely able to process what Slav was trying to explain, and felt his eyebrows furrow in a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Now he remembered just how strange he was. Without another word, Slav turned around and scuttled back to a large pile of blueprints and papers scattered across the floor. The room was spacious; various screens and machines lined the walls, and though there was a large table in the centre the papers on it had spilled over on the floor and nearly covered every available space, like he had too many ideas all at once. Keith looked down at a small pile near his feet and saw half-finished schematics and notes. He supposed he should take the invitation to enter, but he’d only set a foot into the room when Slav looked back up, his eyes even wider, and frantically waved all his hands.

 “Ah! No no no! Don’t go that way! You might step on one of the papers and it could rip and that one might be the key to solving everything. Or you might slip on it and hit your head and die! There’s definitely a reality where that happens.”

 Keith had stopped mid-step and changed his course to move through the right side of the room instead, but stopped again at a distressed squeak from Slav. He just about resisted the urge to sigh with frustration.

 “How about you tell me which way I can go through the room where nothing bad happens? I need to talk to you, and it can’t wait, so just point me in the right direction.”

 Slav considered this for a moment, though he still looked slightly flustered, and finally gestured to the left. “If you go that way there won’t be many realities where something bad happens. I’d say ninety percent you’re okay. Maybe ninety three percent.” He turned away and placed his hands over his eyes. “I can’t watch!”

 Keith took a deep breath and took the opportunity to walk quickly across the centre of the room while Slav wasn’t watching, almost laughing at the idea of taking his fate into his own hands by just going the way he was originally going to go. He knew it was fairly childish to go that way just because he was told not to, and to ignore Slav’s strange warnings, especially since nobody was quite sure whether Slav could actually ‘see’ these realities or was just making up what he considered to be the worst possible outcome. He was always ranting about alternate realities and the dire consequences of seemingly insignificant actions, but what if he could perceive these alternate spaces where things happen differently? Keith had to know.

 Finally he tapped Slav on the shoulder and the little alien looked up at him in surprise. “Oh, you made it!”

 “Of course I made it,” Keith began in a clipped voice, but took a breath and tried again in a softer tone, “I’m sorry I’m disturbing your work, but there’s something I need to ask you.”

 Slav nodded, eyes closed, and put all of his hands in their sleeves. “You want to know about Shiro.”

 “Yes! I -” Keith faltered. “How did you know?”

 “Of course you want to know about Shiro, there’s not a single reality where you’re not consumed by guilt and grief over him. You all think I don’t notice these things, but I do….. But you also ask me about him in every single one too, and that’s probably the truer explanation.” Slav opened his eyes and looked at Keith with an expression of genuine sympathy.

 Keith felt himself warm to the odd little alien, his previous irritation fading fast, but he was also very aware of the implications of what Slav had just said. “So you do see them.” He said with an edge of something like disbelief - though he wasn’t sure why he should struggle to believe in someone that could see alternate realities after he was made the pilot of a giant red magical robot lion. “The alternate realities you always talk about,” he continued, “you can actually see them?”

 Slav tilted his head to one side, the tail at the end of his long body swishing back and forth as he thought. “Yes and no.” He finally answered.

 “Yes and no…?” Keith echoed, feeling his irritation bubbling back up to the surface. “Well it doesn’t matter. I just need to know - does he always disappear? Do we ever save him? Does he ever come back to the castle with us after that battle?”

 Slav sighed and rubbed his temples. “All the realities where we make it to that point, in none of them is Shiro in the castle afterwards.” (Keith tried not to dwell on the words ‘where we make it’.) “I think. I’m not entirely sure, it’s not like I just look at a screen in my brain and switch through the realities you know. It’s like flashes, feelings.” He folded his arms.

 Keith almost visibly deflated, conflicted at feeling better knowing that he didn’t somehow miss an opportunity to save their leader, but feeling a sharp stab of pain that he’s still no closer to knowing what happened to him.

 “I mean,” Slav suddenly continued, “if it’s something that happens in every reality then I’m more sure about it - like with Shiro. But that doesn't happen all that often. All I know is if something terrible happens in just a few realities, or even just in one, then this could be the one it happens in! I don’t know it’s not going to be this one - I have to stop it from happening by removing any possible chance from every reality, it’s the only way.”  His eyes went wide again, and Keith felt like they’d gone a little off topic.

 “So these things you’re sure about,” he began, trying to calm Slav back down, “do you know if Shiro is going to come back some day?”

 “Hmm. I don’t know, it might be too far ahead. Or maybe it’s too different in too many realities.” Slav wrung his hands again, though his wild-eyed fervour was fading.

 Keith hung his head and let a sad sigh escape his lips. “I didn’t think I’d get all the answers I needed anyway, but thanks for talking with me, Slav.”

 “Of course, not a problem. I knew you were coming anyway, it was a dead certainty. Happens in every reality.”

 “….. What else happens in every reality?” Keith asked, unable to keep his curiosity at bay.

 Slav brightened up. “You Paladins are always the same. I get captured by the Galra. Shiro comes to save me. Though he has varying degrees of success... Hmm...” He rubbed his chin.

 So Lance, Pidge, Hunk, Shiro and himself were always the new Voltron Paladins? That was a comforting thought, to know that they always ended up as a team, regardless of the circumstances leading up to them all meeting, but he wondered if they got there differently sometimes; like maybe he stays in the Garrison in some realities? Or maybe he gets kicked out in all of them. Maybe Shiro and Pidge’s brother Matt never get captured by the Galra and Pidge finds another reason to join the Garrison, and then Shiro keeps both of his arms intact. What if Lance didn’t take his place as a pilot, if he never flunked out, and he didn’t form a team with Hunk and Pidge at all, or Hunk let his motion sickness get the better of him and left before Shiro returned to earth?...... Keith felt like he’d stumbled upon the yawning abyss of possibilities that Slav experienced.

  “Hmm, what else... Altea is always lost to the Galra, and the Lions are always split apart, you always fall in love with the same person, and the planet -”

 “Wait, wait... wait... I - what? - I fall in love with the same person?” Keith's entire thought process came to a grinding halt.

 “Oh yes. Every time, always the same person.” Slav said.

 “I don’t - I’m not in love with anyone.” Keith could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, as the weight of what he’d just been told sank in.

 Keith tried desperately to push away the image of blue eyes and a playful smile.

 “Ohhh, this must be one of the times you haven’t realised it yet! I’m not telling you who it is! Don’t ask me - I can’t tell you!” Slav shook his head violently and bent down to the papers at his feet. “I have lots of work to do. Thank you, Paladin, good bye!”

 Keith took the hasty, flustered dismissal as his cue to leave, still feeling the pounding of each heartbeat in his chest as he made a quick retreat out of the room, before Slav could recover enough to tell him he was going the wrong way across the papers again. He felt like his entire world had been shifted into a position he couldn’t tilt it back from. He was going to be part of a bond so strong that it transcended realities, and was forged under every single circumstance possible. How was he supposed to feel after learning something like that? How was he -

 “Keith!” A shout dragged Keith slowly out of his thoughts, and he turned to see someone jogging down the long Castle corridor.

 “Lance?” His emotions and thoughts were so heavy that his voice was unsure and almost hesitant.

 “Don’t ‘Lance?’ me.” Lance spoke with a mock imitation of Keith’s deeper voice. “You’ve been gone for like, an hour-”

 “It’s been twenty minutes, Lance.”  

 “- and Hunk said he saw you heading off toward Slav’s, which I didn’t think was going to be true - because why would you want to hang out with Slav? - but you weren’t training or moping in your room so I thought I’d check it out anyway.”

 Keith’s eyebrows drew together and he frowned. “I don’t mope in my room. And I wasn’t hanging out with Slav. I was asking him some questions.”

 Lance shrugged, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and a smile tugged at his lips. “Look, nobody’s going to judge you for hanging out with him. You aliens gotta stick together or something, right?” Keith made a sharp offended gasp, which only made Lance’s smile even wider, and his voice full of warmth and barely suppressed laughter. He began to walk back down the corridor as he spoke again. “Anyway, I came to tell you that Hunk is trying something different with the food goo today and that you totally need to see what he comes up with. Can’t make it any worse! Anyway, I’ll see you later!” He threw over his shoulder as he launched into a sprint, finally letting out a snort of laughter.

 “I don’t care what he does to that food goo Lance, I’m putting your face into a plate of it!” Keith followed quickly in pursuit, feeling the weight on his chest lighten, and his heavy thoughts lifting away as the sound of Lance’s laughter filled his ears and soothed his soul.

 Blue eyes. Playful smile.

[tryingtolivethroughtheday]

(to make the story clearer, for the last eight days and for the remainibg six me and my family -single parent- are staying in a block of furnished apartments for rental near the coast- we are visiting some relatives but not staying in their house). so, the appartement next to ours was empty, and a new family came in today. I'd just got out from the shower, when my mom comes in my bedroom and says 'I really do not undrestand' and murmuring to herself. so i, a by nature curious being that never expects the worst from people, ask her what's wrong. and then BOI did i have the biggest surprise-disappointment of my life. she says (smirking like fuck you honestly) 'Oh, it' s nothing. I just cannot understand whether that... thing from the people next door is a boy or a girl' REFERING TO THEIR FUCKING CHILD.

I went completely silent. I wanted to cry, laugh at her ridiculousness and at the same time i became increasingly angrier. like, u know, i felt a pressure building up from my stomach, going up to my lungs, taking over my throat and i wanted to yell at her. because, when i hear those things feom my grandpa, i dont mind it so much, since he's old and he'll be dead soon (i dont like to think about it but it's the truth and, no matter how ugly it sounds, it's a soothing thought when it comes to topics like this), and i discovered that my dad isn't quite fond of any kind of queerness himself long before I realised im pansexual and genderqueer. but my mum... although i should have expected it, to be honest, it hurt at the moment -a lot- and it still does thinking about it right now, a couple hours later.

So, after my extended silence, i think to myself 'NOW OR NEVER. U R QUEER UR PROUD AND U WON'T LET THIS BULLSHIT HAPPEN RIGHT IN FRONT OF UR SALAD' aaaand i answer her: 'uhh what do you even mean? why would you say something like that?! it' s really none of your buisness how anyone expresses their gender' (my voice got increasingly louder and more shrill but i didn't mind, cuz it felt so liberating to stand up against her about this!!!!!!)

and fuckin woman looks at me weid and then starts chuckling (idk if anyone feels me, but this whole thing hurt) and says 'Nooo no you misunderstooooooood! you perceived something different that what i was trying to saaaayyy! look, why don' t you go give it a look yourself, maybe you'll be able to figure it out!' and left the room

o m g . this is so wrong. her WHOLE sentence was so wrong. like, first of all I MISUNDERSTOOD?!?!?! whAT. tell me HOW i misunderstood, when you literally said that the way a teenager expresses their gender identity is something laughable, a fucking riddle for solving??????? and plus, as i said, I T I S N O N E O F Y O U R B U I SN ES S

and the 'give it a look yourself' part got me FUMING. like, i didn't ever understand how racist people see those whom they discriminate against as objects/lower beings and not humans. but to see it live. man. awful.

like, i remember myself having violent verbal outbursts defending gay and lesbian people to her since elementery school. fortunately it doesn't have to happen anymore or at least i dont need to get violent cuz one time about three years (or more? not sure) ago, i got so mad at one of her comments (judging the competence of a coworker by the fact that to HER he 'acted like a faggot') that i made my most dramatic outburst, referencing the concentration camps and how she should send them all in there and have them executed. shut her up veeeeeerrrry pretty.

but it had never come down to transphobia as well. and, im saying transphobia bc the kid could be a trans boy, a trans girl, a nonbinary person, a trans enby, but she didn't know. and she decided to make fun of them. and it means even more to me now than ever, bcuz i am kinda struggling with gender identity & gender expression. have been for a while. and to know that this is the reaction and treatment i should expect by my own mother is... something.

anyway. she left to go to the market and i got to meet our neighbour. she (learned name&pronouns) is the same age as me, follows the SAME SCIENTIFIC FIELD at school, is interested in psychology aaaand we exchanged instas to arrenge study & sea dates:) -platonic dates; we didn't have the chance to talk about sexualities yet and tbh idk if she'd like mz- and SHE IS PRETTY LIKE SHE HAS SHORT AFRO HAIR AND DELICATE HANDS ok ill stop. OK SHE APPARENTLY WEARS BASKETBALL JERSEYS I CANNOT-

after my adored mother returned i made her uncomfortable by telling her that i met the girl and also that i couldn't understand why she was so rude and judgemental- she yelled an 'ANYWAY' and asked me to pass her the fruit from the bags skskskskskskksksksksks REVENGE

that's it for today's rant! stay tuned for more original, lengthy, tiring, uninteresting updates from my sad life!!!!!!!!! :')

[canaryatlaw]

today was good. I woke up at 6 and got ready as normal. despite my excitement for the case up in court today I also started to get anxious, particularly at the idea of the other lawyer getting very angry as I thought he would when he realized things weren’t going to go the way he wanted. but I also trusted the judge it was in front of (have been in front of her every day this week and will be again tomorrow morning) and knew I was only doing what the court had specifically okayed. but not knowing how it was gonna play out made me kind of anxious. everything else was fine though, my supervisor who was my co-counsel on the case since it was a rough one was out of the office today but my work buddy was gonna go up with me, but he ended up being late so I went in alone. thankfully I didn’t have to talk to the other lawyer before court itself started, which was one of the things I’d been distressed about, and by the time we got in front of the judge it seemed he’d deduced he was not going to get what he wanted and there was nothing he could do about it, so he whined about it a bit but otherwise wasn’t too dramatic, which was honestly a relief. he then proceeded to fuck himself over even more by trying to get the hearing date moved up and only succeeded in getting it pushed back by an entire month, and I didn’t even have to do anything, I just stood there with a calm smile on my face, and the judge definitely smiled a bit when she saw the look on my face haha. so that went well. we had been called first so my work buddy missed it but it all went okay anyway. we walked out of court laughing at how badly this guy had just fucked himself over. back down to the office and did a few things, then realized with my supervisor gone I again had basically nothing to do all day, so I ended up knocking out some CLE (continuing legal education) course hours since we have to have 15 hours done by the end of November (for the newly admitted lawyers) and at least 6 of them had to be from this specific basic skills course, so I found a webinar of it and ended up watching that for most of the day, though I was on my phone for most of it as well lol and I mean not only was the subject matter boring, but it was legit just a repeat of all the shit I already learned in law school, so that was really pointless. I got almost 5 hours of it down though so that was good. every so often I’d stop to do something else and ended up actually sitting at the front desk for like half an hour or so just because we had nobody else to do it lol and it took me a minute to figure out what I was actually supposed to do but it worked out. Tonight was supposed to be small group night but since it was Halloween we’d made plans to meet up with another small group at a like restaurant/bar/lounge type place as a social outing. well, the thing about today I didn’t get around to mentioning yet is that the weather was absolutely fucking miserable. the entire day it had been not quite snowing, but a mix of rain and snow, which was just gross and wet and nobody wanted to have to deal with it, so the vast majority of people bailed on the event, and I can’t say I blamed them because I probably would’ve as well if I wasn’t stuck in this semi-leadership position and the place was so close to my work anyway. I didn’t want to bother with the whole go to starbucks to kill time thing because it didn’t really make sense geographically for where I was ultimately heading and that required a fair amount of foot travel, which I didn’t want to do, so I ended up staying at the office doing the CLE until 6 or so at which point I grabbed my stuff and changed into the clothes I brought with me because my formal suit definitely wasn’t gonna cut it lol. I then ubered over there because any public transit method involved at least 10 minutes of walking outside in the miserable weather, and I ain’t about that life no more, I did way too much of it in law school already I don’t need anymore. of course I was like, the second person to actually show up haha but not too long after we met up with the other secondary leader guy and some people from the other small group, and got a table to get drinks and food. of course our actual leader guy who can’t ever seem to get anywhere on time ended up being like, two hours late, because he’s just ridiculous like that. the night was fun though, it felt good to have a casual social outing where I felt comfortable talking with people I didn’t really know before this and be able to be cracking jokes that people actually laughed at, and felt like my presence was being enjoyed, and it’s been a while since I’ve really felt that. It really sucks honestly that just when my work life finally reached a really good place that I’m so happy to be at, my social life has to go to hell and now I just feel sad and lonely pretty much all the time I’m not distracted doing something else (like working). It’s just been really hard and I don’t know what to do about it at this point. I keep telling myself I need to let go, but that’s so much easier said than done and I don’t want to just throw away relationships that have meant so much to me, but at this point caring has meant being hurt over and over again, and I really can’t take it anymore. It’s just at the point where I feel like I’m a bad person, that only if I wasn’t so messed up this wouldn’t be happening, that they all hate me because I keep doing this terrible things when I don’t even know what they’re talking about, feels like just everything I do is wrong and I can’t ever do anything right. and it’s just been gutting for me, to feel like I’m a bad friend when I try so hard to be a great friend to everybody, especially those I’m closest to, and the idea anybody would perceive me as a bad friend to them just fucking breaks me. and what’s really rough is that if this were happening to my friend, I know exactly what I’d tell them, that they don’t need people in their lives who treat them like that and clearly don’t value them for the amazing potential they have, I know this is what I would say if I were outside this situation. but I’m not, I’m right in the middle of it and none of it actually helps, because I just can’t give up, I need to fix it, I need them to like me, I need things to go back to where they were. even when I know all of the shit that has gone down, I just want them to like me again. this has just been tearing at me for weeks and I’ve mostly just been shutting it up inside of me out of fear that saying anything would provoke more hate. and maybe it will, idk at this point. but this really sucks and I don’t know what to do at this point. I just keep praying that it will get fixed, even when I know it probably won’t happen and it probably wouldn’t even be a good thing if it did, but I still can’t help myself from wanting it. everything else was going so well, and I’m totally fine when dealing with everything else, but this has really just been dragging me down. sigh. I’m ranting, clearly. anyway. it was a good night. After a few hours I headed home, again opting for an uber to avoid having to walk a good distance for public transit. I got home and turned on netflix while I browsed my computer for a bit and then showered and started getting ready for bed, and now I am here. It’s just past 11:30 and I have another 6 am wake up, so I really should be getting to bed now, so that is what I’m going to do. Goodnight friends. Happy Friday.