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dem-obscure-imagines · 2 days ago

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The Lighthouse Vol. 1

Bob Reynolds x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Note: Howdy. Finally finished it. I really love how this one turned out. Very domestic fluff, forced proximity type stuff. Bob is so very dear to me, so I hope you enjoy it. I will also be posting this to my Ao3 for easier navigation; right here.

Summary: After the battle with Thanos, getting dusted for five years followed directly by another battle with Thanos, you were more than content living in your small, small town on the coast of Maine, overlooked by a beautiful lighthouse. Your life was perfect, you thought. Quiet, sure, but perfect. Until Bucky Barnes showed up on your doorstep with Bob Reynolds in tow.

Warnings: canon-typical drug mention (Bob’s former drug use), mental health discussion (but nothing super super serious; Bob has depression and Bipolar), little bit of canon-typical violence as a treat, some swearing.

Word Count: 29k (Split into Two Volumes, Vol. 2 here)

Reader Is: Female (only mentioned a few times, I think, I tried to be vague-ish), late-twenties

An Unexpected Bucky

“Crashing against him like…like a wave on the…no. No, that’s so bad,” You murmured to yourself, finger repeatedly tapping the backspace key. Maybe writing a book was harder than you thought it would be. How had Scott Lang pulled it off, you wondered. Granted, Scott’s book was an autobiography and you were dabbling in fiction, which was harder, you were sure.

You took a long sip of your drink. Something warm and caffeinated to power you through the next chapter or so, you hoped.

Outside, there were actual waves crashing against the actual shore, not too far from the little east coast house you called home. It was a dreary kind of day, the sky full of clouds. It wasn’t supposed to rain, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it did. You didn’t mind. The rain helped you think sometimes, and god knew you could use it.

Your eyes scanned the last paragraph you had, fingers itching for the next words. Sometimes, it was just so hard to let it flow. And you weren’t exactly in the ideal position to be writing a kissing scene, let alone anything steamier than that, given how long it had been since you’d partaken in any of those activities. Maybe you’d have to read some and come back to it.

Before you had the chance to decide, your phone rang.

You didn’t get many calls these days. Not important ones, anyway. Mostly spam concerning your car’s extended warranty or robo-calls from those scam Avengers Insurance agencies. No one was going to cover your car if it got smashed by the Incredible Hulk. That was merely a risk people took living in New York, you were afraid. It was why you’d moved away. You’d seen something on the news the other day about some new incident out that way. A giant, looming shadow that had been, miraculously defeated. Once you knew you didn’t need to head out to help, you’d turned it off. You hadn’t done much hero work lately; you were probably rusty anyway.

Instead, you’d picked a quiet life in Seaberg, Maine. Left New York and hadn’t looked back.

You picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, kid. Your doorbell still broken?”

“Congressman Barnes, good to hear from you. And yeah, I think it is. Why, do you know a guy?”

“Nah, but could you come open the door?”

Oh. That changed things. You slipped off of your barstool and straightened your shirt out, glancing down at yourself. Yeah, your oversized tee and your Stitch pajama pants would have to do, you supposed. You unlatched the door, undoing the three locks holding it shut and pulled it open to find Bucky, looking different than he’d looked in the news circuit since he’d been elected. A little rougher around the edges.

Still, he smiled when he saw you, pulling you in for a hug. “Hey. How are you doing?”

“I’m good, Bucky. How are you?”

He hesitated. “Loaded question. Can we come in?”

We? Sure enough, when he stepped to the side, he revealed another guy, standing there in his shadow, a mop of curly brown hair hiding some of his face. He waved, hand swallowed up by the sleeve of the sweater he was wearing. From underneath the curls, a pair of kind, curious eyes peered out. Harmless, you ruled. Utterly harmless.

“Hi there. Yeah, uh, come on in.”

The aforementioned guy followed Bucky into the house, dragging a small orange suitcase behind him. You raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. You knew answers were coming.

Bucky made himself comfortable. Opened your fridge, grabbed a bottle of beer from the door of it. Used that fancy vibranium arm to crack it open with a hiss.

“How’s Congress?” You asked, sitting back at your island.

He huffed a laugh. “Done with that now.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That was a quick term! What happened?”

“You been watching the news?”

“Here and there.” You shrugged, stirring your straw in your drink. You glanced at the guy again. At his suitcase. He wandered a little further into your house, drawn to your shelf of DVDs. “What’s going on?”

“You hear about the, uh…incident in New York last week?”

“Some of it. Shadow guy or something. Seemed like it was handled and I didn’t get a call, so I figured…”

Bucky tilted his head towards the guy, eyes saying everything his words didn’t.

Your eyebrows furrowed, glancing over at him. He was crouched in front of the shelf, reading the names of the movies off of the spines. Utterly, utterly harmless. And yet…

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. We’re renovating the Tower. He needs a place to lay low for a few weeks. I figured I’d see if you had any objections. I know you have a guest room.”

“The Tower? The Tower? What the hell…?” You knew you’d been checked out for a few weeks, but that was news.

“Yeah, so that’s the other bit.” Bucky took a sip from his beer. “We’re starting the team back up. We could use a healer, if you’re up for it. I know you seem very…comfortable here, but…” He pointed to the decor you had up. “It’s nice, by the way. Looks really nice.”

“Thanks.” You looked at the guy again, and he was looking back this time, sitting criss-cross on the floor in your living room. He gave a pleasant smile.

“I’m Bob, by the way. You’re (Y/N)?”

“Yep, I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you, Bob.” You turned back to Bucky. “Is he…like you used to be?”

“In a sense, yeah.” Bucky nodded. “We don’t know the extent of it, but you’re the expert.”

“No, the Wakandans were the experts. I was the contingency plan. You do know that, right?” It was true. They were the ones that had broken through Bucky’s mental conditioning. You were just there to put him to sleep. You were a healer, among other things. One of your abilities lulled people unconscious, which came in handy when the Winter Soldier was on a rampage.

“Well, I called. They’re kind of dealing with something over there. So…”

“I��m next on the phone tree. Well, I’m honored you thought of me. I haven’t heard from anyone since…well, since Tony’s funeral, really. We’re all scattered to the winds now.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I’m serious, though. They’re all very green. We could use someone with a little experience.” He said.

You exhaled a long breath, looking around at your things. Just pack it all up? Just leave? Snip the roots you’d put down and go? And then you looked at Bob again, who had moved on to inspect your collection of Wii games, nodding to himself as his eyes skimmed over Mario Galaxy and your Just Dance collection.

“Oh wow…” He murmured, looking impressed.

“I have a job here. I’d need someone to help me pack all this shit up. I’m not leaving my records and my Legos in Maine.”

“I’m sure Bob would love to help you downsize. He likes organizing stuff. And I’ll bring some help to get it all moved in two weeks.” Bucky offered, giving that little expectant look that you were sure had all the dames in the forties swooning over him. Yes, Bucky, whatever you say, Bucky. It was unfair, really. No wonder he’d won the election, even though you were pretty sure he’d killed JFK.

You gave another sigh. A more resigned sigh. You shook your head, not as your answer, but just in spite of yourself. Chuckled, even. “Yeah, alright, fine. I’ll put in my two weeks. And I’ll have a list of groceries I want in that pantry the second I step over that Tower threshold.”

He grinned. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Greener Pastures

You swore every cart in this grocery store had at least one shitty wheel. It was a rule of the universe, you were sure. Still, you steered the cart up and down the aisles, letting Bob guide you. Everything the two of you would need for the next two weeks. So far, this included lots of mac and cheese, some chips and queso, a bag of baby carrots and dip, a few assorted snacks, some microwave popcorn, and a package of Oreos.

“What kind of pasta do you like?” You asked, eyes scanning the shelf.

“I’m not picky about that kind of thing. The spirals are fun, though.”

“Spirals it is.” You put a few boxes in the cart.

After the grocery store, you stopped at the rundown little theater at the end of the main drag of town, where you worked. Bob followed you into the lobby, looking around at the old marquis mounted to the front of the concession stand. You marched over to the managers’ desk, where one of your favorites was on duty. Leah.

“You seeing something today?” she asked.

You shook your head, grimacing as you handed over the slip of paper that sealed the deal.

She frowned. “You’re kidding. No. Noooooo. This feels like divorce papers.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You shrugged, giving a sad little smile. “Greener pastures, I hope.”

“The bookstore poached you, didn’t they? I know you’ve been wanting a job there forever, but they’re never hiring.”

“Actually…I’m moving. It’s kind of last minute, but…I figured I’d put my two weeks in in case it doesn’t work out.”

Leah scoffed. “Pfft. Like we wouldn’t just hire you back anyway. You’ve been here for years.”

You nodded, glancing back at Bob, who was looking at the posters of upcoming movies. “Yeah. Feels like home here. But…I’ve gotta go back. I’ve been avoiding it too long.”

“Thought you’d say that. Well, I’ll let the GM know. Good luck with the move. I’m sure I’ll see you again before you leave.”

“Thanks. Come on, Bob. We’re all set here.”

“Alright.” He nodded, hands in his pockets, following you out the front doors. He climbed into the passenger seat of your car. You buckled up, turning the radio back on, adjusting the AC. The groceries were piled in the back seat, but nothing was frozen, so it was probably fine.

Out of the parking lot and onto the main drag of town, you passed several storefronts, people milling about, waving at each other. It was a small town. Everyone really did know everyone. And though you’d been an outsider when you’d moved there, you weren’t anymore. Instead, you had some friends, you’d like to think. Members of the community who you depended on for certain things.

The guy you bought your chives from at the farmer’s market, the old lady that ran the used bookstore, the guy at the record place who held the really cool ones until you got a look.

“This place is really nice.” Bob said quietly, watching the windows go by. “A lot of flowers here. Cool lighthouse.”

“It is. It gets really touristy in the summer, but…you came at a nice, quiet time.” You said, putting your blinker on and making a turn. “Anything else you need while we’re out?”

He shook his head. “I brought most of it. Thank you, though. For the groceries and stuff.”

“I was getting low.” You shrugged. Your modesty didn’t seem to get rid of the smile on his face, though.

Once you were back home, he helped carry the groceries in. The guy was…well, stronger than he looked, frankly. Bucky hadn’t explained everything there was hiding beneath his surface, left a lot of that for you to figure out, but you could add super strength to that growing list. With everything brought inside, you showed him up to the guest room so he could get settled while you put everything away.

It was a small room, the walls painted blue. There was a framed painting of a lighthouse you’d gotten at an art fair the previous summer, a set of dark blue sheets and a plush comforter. There was a small TV perched on the edge of a mahogany dresser. It had been decently cheap secondhand due to the large scratch on one of the legs.

“There’s a bathroom through that door there. I’ll show you how to use the shower. Feel free to put stuff in the drawers, I don’t care. And if you get cold, there are blankets tucked in the hope chest at the end of the bed.” You said, pulling open the lid to show him.

He nodded, committing the information to memory. You showed him the shower, like you promised, which was relatively straightforward compared to other models you’d operated, and then left him to his unpacking, heading downstairs.

It didn’t take long to put everything away. In fact, by the time you were done, the water on the stove had just started to boil. You poured in a box of mac and cheese. The noodles cooked, you drained them after, and added them back to the pot with some butter, milk, the cheese powder, and a hearty spoonful of queso, stirring it all together.

“That smells really good.” Bob smiled, padding down the stairs, hair wet from a shower. He had changed into yet another oversized sweater. You were beginning to think that suitcase of his was just full of them.

“It’s just mac and cheese. Thought I’d keep it simple for night one.” You replied, sliding the pot off the hot burner, turning the dial down. You handed him a bowl and a spoon, serving yourself first and leaving him more than half of the pot.

You walked down the step and a half into your living room, flicking on the TV. There was a channel that just ran animated movies all day. You didn’t have the full rundown on Bob or whatever trauma was hidden behind those kind, sad eyes, but kids’ movies were usually a safe bet with most folks, so you let it run. You figured he’d let you know if Monsters Inc. was too intense for him.

For the most part, you ate in silence, the sounds of your forks on the ceramic bowls quietly percussing in the small room. You wanted to say something, but didn’t know where to start with…all that, so you didn’t.

When the bowls were empty, you took them back to the kitchen, slipping them in the dishwasher. You soaked the pot, returned to the couch. It occurred to you that you should put some time into finishing your projects. The crafts you had been putting off. Some of them probably wouldn’t survive the move to the big city. Well, that, and you’d lose all motivation once you set foot beyond the confines of Maine. Your giant crochet blanket was as good a place to start as any.

You pulled it out of the storage ottoman in front of your armchair, setting to work. It was a nice, thick blanket, made of giant, fluffy yarn. The hook you were using for it was a massive plastic one, rather than a smaller, traditional one.

Bob glanced over at you every once in a while, curious. “Is that knitting or crochet?”

“This is crochet,” you explained, holding up the stitches as though it would help. “Knitting is two sticks, crochet is just one. I can do both, but…honestly, crochet is kind of easier. It works up faster, too. But knitting is better if you want something…more substantial. Like socks or something. Tighter, closer stitches.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen yarn that big,” he said with a chuckle, looking at it.

“They call this ‘blanket yarn.’ It’s the big guns.”

“I can see why. Does that take long?”

“If you keep at it? No. But I am a master procrastinator, so…you’re gonna see me do a lot of random hobbies these next couple weeks, get everything wrapped up.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

You worked for a while longer before you noticed him shaking a little. You glanced over, eyes scanning him for symptoms. You didn’t mean to; it was the healer in you. Finding a problem, fixing it.

“You okay?”

“’M fine.” He reassured, offering a soft but unconvincing smile. He considered for a moment before trying again. “I, uh…get the shakes at night. I’m okay. They’ve been better lately.”

You put the blanket aside, putting in a stitch marker. “Can I try something?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, uh, sure. Yeah. Try…what, exactly?”

“Did Bucky tell you what I do?”

He shook his head, curls waving in front of his face, making him look so soft and small.

“I used to be the healer on the team. It’s why he left you with me. Come sit here.” You pushed the ottoman further away from the armchair, patting the cushioned seat. He obliged, getting up and crossing the room, sitting there, gazing up at you with those curious eyes. You sat on the chair just behind him. “I’m gonna touch you a little, okay? Let me know if it’s too much and I’ll stop. People find it overwhelming sometimes.”

“O-okay.” He nodded, shoulders hunched.

You watched the way his muscles seized ever so slightly. Tensing and untensing. Withdrawal, for sure. He was probably a few weeks clean. From what, it wasn’t your place to ask. But you could help, at the very least.

Deep breath in.

You focused, reaching in for the first time in a long time. A gentle white glow bloomed from your chest, your palms. Sometimes you forgot how bright you were. Other times, your inner light was stretched across the ceiling, dancing like an aquarium.

You reached out, hands extended, smoothing across Bob’s shrouded shoulders, down his arms. The moment you made contact, he let out a long breath, head falling back as he looked up at the reflections of your light, blocked only by the imprint of his shadow. His tremors stopped, muscles relaxing.

“Ohhh.” He exhaled, melting beneath your touch as your hands worked, fingers digging into the knots on his back, the tension around his neck. The energy combined with your expert touch was enough to put even the Winter Soldier on his ass. Speaking from experience.

After a few minutes, you pulled back, letting your glow fade back to neutral.

“Better?”

“How’d you…do that?” He murmured. He wasn’t shaking anymore, eyes scanning down his arms, honed in on his fingers.

“Lots of practice. It’s not a permanent fix, but it’ll help you sleep, at least.” You promised, getting up from the armchair and walking around to get a look at his face. His eyes were half-lidded, that soft, sleepy smile cemented onto his features, it would seem.

He nodded, taking a long breath and letting it roll out of him. “Thank you. For that. For…everything, really. It was really nice of you to let me stay here. You definitely didn’t have to, having it just kind of sprung on you like that.”

You shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. If you need more, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll do this for you every night if you need it.”

He chuckled, tilting his head, catlike amusement on his face. “Don’t tempt me with a good time. That was…wow. I’ve never been to a massage place or anything, but I have to imagine that’s five-star service right there.”

You laughed at that. A genuine, honest-to-god laugh. Huh. That was new.

“Anyway, I think I’m gonna head up for the night while I’m still all drowsy and stuff. Don’t wanna blow it.” He stood, straighter than he had the whole time he’d been there. He was kinda tall, apparently.

“Have a good night, Bob. My room is just down the hall if you need anything.”

He smiled. “Alright.”

And as he walked up the stairs to the second floor, it occurred to you that…maybe having a roommate wouldn’t be so bad. Honestly…maybe you’d been kind of lonely? All this time? Odd how that happened.

Well, one way or the other, you had one now. With any luck, the two of you would make it through the next thirteen days unscathed.

I mean, one could hope, right?

Local Honey

You made a concerted effort to wake up a little earlier the next morning. You didn’t know what time Bob would, and you didn’t want him to be alone on his first morning there, so you got out of bed, got dressed for work, and sat at the island in the kitchen with a bowl of cereal, typing away on your laptop.

He didn’t come down until ten or so, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was wearing a pair of pajamas with fish on them. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little. This was supposed to be the most dangerous guy in the world? You didn’t buy it.

“Good morning.” You said, giving a welcoming smile. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock. Those waves outside are something, huh? Like a free noise machine.” He stretched, yawning. He opened the cupboards, looking for breakfast. He found it relatively quickly, picking a packet of oatmeal. He explored a little, looking in the other cabinets until he found a bowl and a spoon. “Can I use this honey?”

“Mmhmm, go for it.” You nodded. “I get it at the farmer’s market. The guy who does it is local. It’s supposed to be good for your allergies, eating local honey. Gets you used to the pollen or something.”

He brightened at that factoid. “I never knew that! Makes sense, though.” He stirred the oatmeal mix together with some water and popped it into the microwave to thicken. Once it came out, he drizzled some honey on top along with some banana slices. “Can I sit with you?”

“You don’t have to ask. Make yourself at home,” you said. “Sit where you want, eat what you want. If we run out of something, we can just go get more. That said, I have work at noon. I’ll be back sometime around six. Are you gonna be okay here alone?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He nodded, making a perfect scoop of his oatmeal. “Do you want me to do anything while you’re gone? Like…laundry or something?”

“No, that’s okay. Thank you, though. I should get my schedule today, too, so we can figure out how much I work these next few weeks. Shouldn’t be much. It’s been really slow.”

“Seems like a fun job. Movie theater.”

“It is. I get free posters. Free tickets. Half-off snacks. It’s a decent gig. Doesn’t pay much, but…”

“I get it. I was a sign-spinning chicken as a summer job.” He confessed, giving a self-depreciating chuckle. “So, you know…”

“Sounds warm.”

“It was. A very sweaty experience.” He shrugged, face morphing into that little earnest smile of his. “I’d much rather scoop popcorn, I think.”

***

And scoop popcorn you did. Work was rather uneventful. Slow as all hell, in other words. Nothing good was out, so your only customers were a handful of old ladies trying to haggle for a lower ticket price, which was not how that worked at all.

“Heard you put in your two weeks,” one of the managers said. “Why’s that?”

“Going back to New York. One of my friends,” Bucky Barnes, aka the former Winter Soldier, “is…looking for a new roommate,” healer for his new Avengers lineup “and…I’ve missed it, I guess.” You said with a shrug.

You didn’t miss the city. You did miss…being part of something. Now that the seed had been planted in your head, and you’d slept on it, you were coming around on it. Living in the tower. Having a built-in…family, or something similar. A team, at the very least. And Bob was nice. You hoped the others would be the same, whoever they were. You still refused to read up on it, for fear of psyching yourself out of it.

After work, you hit a drive-thru and headed home, setting the bag and two drinks on the island. You almost did a double-take when you saw the shoes in front of the door until you remembered you had a house guest.

“Bob! I got dinner!”

He came around the corner, grinning. His sweater of the day was green. It suited him. He eyed up the bag on the counter. “I could have made us something.”

You ignored the flutter your heart did when he said that. You couldn’t remember the last time a man had offered to cook for you, in any sense of the word. “Oh, that’s okay. I never feel up to it after work, so I just figured…”

“Nuggets?”

“I got ranch and barbeque.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“How was your day? Get up to anything fun in my absence?”

“Nah, not really. Just explored the house a little. Watched a movie. You have a lot of board games.”

“I collect Monopoly boards. I collect a lot of things, actually, which is going to be our main project…starting tomorrow. I need to sit down.”

“Long day?”

“Boring day. Thursdays are always slow as hell.” You replied, kicking your shoes off. You walked out into the living room, setting up a pair of TV trays, for once grateful that you had more than one. “What do you want to watch?”

“Oh, I don’t really care. You can put on whatever.” Bob sat down in front of one of the trays, pulling his feet under his legs as you distributed the food. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Yeah, of course. I should have texted, but then I realized when I clocked out that I don’t have your phone number.”

“I don’t have a phone. They said they’d get me one when I go back.” He said softly, as though he didn’t believe the words. You wondered why.

“Ah. Gotcha, okay.” You nodded. “I can set up my iPad here. Text it from my phone. And you can use it to message me back.”

At that, he gave a genuine smile. “Yeah, that works. Thank you.”

“Quit thanking me. I’m just trying to be a good host to my guest.”

He chuckled, shrugging. “Right. I’m just not used to it, is all.”

You could tell he meant it. And it broke your heart. You didn’t know what all he’d been through on his way to you, but you knew this boy was not used to kindness, even though he had all the kindness in the world tucked behind those sparkling eyes.

“Get used to it.”

“Okay, deal.”

***

That night, you were a little restless. One of those nights where you just toss and turn, and then readjust your blankets, flip your pillow, and toss and turn some more. But you swore, one of those times, when you sat up and opened your eyes just the tiniest bit, that there was a shadow, looming in the corner of your room.

Two glowing yellow eyes.

When you lit your hand—a common alternative to a flashlight, in your case—there was no one there. Just a hoodie hanging over your closet door.

So you laid down and went to sleep.

Knight of Cups

Rain pitter-pattered steadily on the roof the next morning. Dreary gray skies floated beyond your fluttering curtains. The perfect day to stay inside. Really, the perfect day to begin the impossible journey of weeding out the junk in your house.

You got dressed, pulling on a striped shirt and a pair of overalls with a bee embroidered into the denim. That, you’d done yourself. You let your anchor necklace settle between your collarbones, adjusting it with your fingers before heading downstairs.

It took a while for Bob to come down. He gave a sleepy little chuckle, hoping to distract from the bags beneath his eyes. It didn’t work. But you didn’t ask questions. You had to trust him to come to you if he needed help.

The two of you ate breakfast. He kept fixating on your honeybee and he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face, that soft, soft look in his eyes.

“I did it myself. The bee. Embroidered it.”

His smile widened. “Really? You embroider?”

“Not a lot, but yeah. Got a kit on clearance at the craft store.”

“It looks great. I couldn’t even tell.” He murmured, eyes sliding from the bee up to meet yours. “Looks super professional. What, uh…what’s the plan today?”

“I figured we’d tackle that bookshelf first. The big one.”

“Aye aye.” He took your empty plate and rinsed it off, setting it in the dishwasher.

You got your hair out of the way and walked over to said bookshelf, planting yourself in front of it, hands on your hips, eyes scanning the spines. It was a large shelf, had come with the house. It was made of an old rowboat. Wide and sturdy, absolutely filled with books, almost floor to ceiling. Not to mention the knickknacks scattered about. The stray Funko Pop or action figure.

A tiny plastic Winter Soldier stood guard in front of your leatherbound copy of the Hobbit. Bucky would get a kick out of that.

“Where do we start?” Bob asked, suddenly behind you.

You jolted a little, turning to look at him, hand slapped over your heart. You chuckled a little. “Jeez, you’re quiet.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You grinned, turning back to the shelf. “I’ll, uh…go grab some boxes. I think we’ll just stick to the classic keep, trash, donate. You can start taking stacks of them off the shelf and I’ll start sorting.”

“Got it.”

The two of you split. You rummaged around in a closet and found some empty tubs, dragging them back out to the living room, where Bob was stacking books on the coffee table for your consideration. He stopped in his tracks, wound up for a second, and then sneezed like a kitten.

Most dangerous man in the world my ass. “Sorry. It’s probably pretty dusty over there. I’m not great at staying on top of it.”

“’S fine.” He rubbed the end of his nose, scrunching it in an attempt to get his sinuses back in order. “You got a lot of, uh…vampire romance there.”

“I had a phase.” You chuckled, scooping most of them into the donation box. You saved a few of the good ones, though. It continued like that, Bob bringing you an armful of books at a time and you would split them up accordingly.

“Aww, man, Animorphs, I used to read these all the time!” He grinned, looking at the art on one of the covers, finger tracing over Rachel’s transformation into a starfish.

“You can have them if you want. I’ve only got a handful and they’re all out of order. I never did read them all.”

“You mean that?”

“Yeah, knock yourself out. I’ll get another box.” You said with a grin, walking out of the room with yet another box that you set in the corner of the room. You used a piece of tape and a Sharpie to label it BOB, which he grinned at, setting the small set of paperbacks inside.

“So uh…How do you know Bucky?”

“Old friend.” You replied, gathering your words as you flipped through a pile of murder mysteries, choosing to part with most of them. “He, uh…right, so…Sam found me, actually. Sam Wilson. Scouted me out back in…well, it was before the blip. Bucky was brainwashed by HYDRA and worked for them for a while. So I was there to…put him to sleep, basically. I can’t undo brainwashing, but I can mellow someone out.”

“Yeah, you’re good at that. Damn near knocked me out with it.” He said with a chuckle.

“I was hitting you with Level 2 waves. When I get up to like a 5 or so, it would indeed knock you out.” You replied, meeting his eyes. “So yeah, I went with Bucky to Wakanda while they untangled his mind, in case things got out of hand. Fought Thanos, got dusted, and then everyone split up and it’s been radio silence since then. I keep tabs, but…not enough, I guess.”

“And that’s why they sent me here, then, I’m guessing. So…you can knock me out if I…you know…if the other guy makes an appearance…?” Bob asked softly. You could tell it had been on his mind.

“Other guy?” You asked, genuinely baffled for a moment until you remembered his shadowy counterpart. The one you’d seen on the news. The floating black silhouette with the cape and the glowing eyes. The one who was supposedly standing right in front of you. “Right. I mean, I guess so. I also just like to think I’m good company.”

You shuffled through another few stacks of books, sorting through things. Books you were never going to read, books you had read and didn’t like very much, all went into the donation box. Maybe you were in the mood for it, or maybe you really were more of a pack rat than you’d previously thought, but it was…easy to part with a lot of it now, with either hindsight or the free time to finally go through it.

Every once a while, you’d walk over and set one in Bob’s box, stuff you thought he would like, but he spent some time in front of the donation box, too, picking things out for himself. It brought a smile to your face, him crouched there, searching for treasures.

“Tell me about yourself.” You said suddenly.

“What do you…want to know?” Bob asked, sitting himself down cross-legged on the carpet. “I don’t know much about my…powers or…”

“Oh, no no no. Tell me about…you. Like, um…what’s your favorite color? Favorite movie? That kinda stuff.”

“Oh. Uh, blue. And Finding Nemo. I…grew up in Florida. I hate rollercoasters. I threw up in a haunted house one time. I’m afraid of heights. I like sitcoms, but I have trouble remembering stuff that happened in the early seasons. I like to read. Hence the uh, stack I’m collecting here. I hope you’re not donating these anywhere important. I’m poaching all your good picks.”

“Nah, take whatever you want. The rest are going to the used bookstore in town. She gives store credit for them, so we can pick up one or two new ones while we’re there, if you see anything you like.” You reassured him.

“What about you?”

“Hmm?”

“Favorite color, movie, all that stuff.” Bob insisted, eyes glimmering.

“Yellow. Movie is tough. I love a lot of movies. Probably Howl’s Moving Castle right now.” You replied, grabbing the last of the books from the shelf. You tucked the Hobbit along with the tiny Bucky into the Keep box. You’d give them to him when he came back. “I’m from New York. Lived there most of my life. I like the quiet life, though. The waves on the shore, the familiar faces. In a big city, everyone blends. You’re the tiniest drop in the biggest bucket. But here…I could go down a whole row of shops and tell you the names of every shopkeep. I know all the old ladies in the farmers’ market.”

He nodded like you’d said something profound. “I…yeah. That drop in the bucket stuff. I get that. I like it here, too. Little town. It’s easier to…breathe.” He turned one of the books over, reading the back of it before tucking it into his box. He couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off of his face, looking at his haul. It made your chest warm. “Thanks for these. And don’t tell me not to thank you because these are a gift, not standard host stuff. I’m allowed to thank you for that.”

You laughed, nodding. “Alright, fair. And you’re welcome. We might need to get you a bigger box. I’ve got a lot of shit in this house. I have no doubt you’ll pick up some more trinkets by the time we leave.”

He grinned. “Promise?”

***

Once the books were sorted, Bob helped you load the boxes of outgoing copies into the back of your car. He was…stronger than he looked. You tried not to read too much into it. You didn’t want him to think you were sizing him up as a threat. You were sure those looks were the ones he was hoping to escape in your middle-of-nowhere little town.

It wasn’t a long drive. Just a few minutes down the road, further down the coast. You parallel parked with ease.

“Okay, now that is a superpower.” Bob said, impressed. “I’ve never seen anyone do it that easily before.”

“I’ll give you some pointers before we leave.” You chuckled, slipping out of your seat and checking both ways before stepping into the street, walking around to the trunk of the car and grabbing a box. Bob followed you through the front door, the little bell above the door jingling as you did.

Inside, was the coziest bookstore in the world, to be sure. Suncatchers in the windows reflected little rainbows on every surface. It was low-lit, but fairy lights and a handful of lanterns made up for it, illuminating the place with a glow that could only be explained as magic, you were sure.

The shopkeep was an eccentric old lady named Earlene, who had a beaded glasses strap hanging around her neck. She was wearing a loose tie-dye blouse and more rings than you could count, big giant hoop earrings attached to her ears.

She was who you wanted to be when you grew up.

“Well, if it isn’t our glowing girl herself. How the hell are you, (Y/N)?” Earlene asked, motioning you into the shop, arms open wide. You set your box on the counter, slipping around the side of it to hug her.

“Doing great, Earlene. Brought some new stock for you.”

“I see that. You cleaning house or what?”

“Something like that. Heading back to New York for a while, I think.” You confessed, putting it out in the open. Ripping it off like a Band-Aid.

She frowned at that, shaking her head. “Damn. It’s always the good ones. You’re gonna visit, though? My niece got me on that…Instagram.”

“Oh, I will add you for sure.” You promised. “And I’m sure I’ll visit.” There was some rustling behind you, Bob looking at the shelf of classics.

Earlene pointed with a manicured finger. “Is this one the boyfriend?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No. There is no boyfriend.”

“Well, there should be. You’re a beautiful young lady and you aren’t getting any younger.” She said, earning a laugh from your companion, who set the box of books he had on the floor in front of the counter.

“Earlene, this is Bob. Bob, this is Earlene.”

“Think of me as the town wine aunt. Well, great-aunt now, I suppose. I’m not getting any younger, either.”

“She hosts Tipsy Tarot nights once a month.”

“And I promise you, honey, that Knight of Cups is coming in any day now.”

You scoffed. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I like your shop.” Bob said, pointing to the lights. “Really cool vibes in here.”

“Well, thank you, Bob. Take a look around. With all these books (Y/N) is unloading, you can take at least a few.” She said with a grin.

“I’ll go get the last box.” You volunteered, heading back outside to get the last one out of the trunk. When you returned, Bob was crouched in front of the classics shelf, looking at the cover of something. Frankenstein, you were pretty sure.

Earlene motioned you over towards the counter with a curled finger, beckoning, not unlike a witch in a children’s fairytale. You followed anyway, standing behind the counter with her. She took one of your hands in hers, reaching into her pocket to hand you a small, rectangular box. You knew from the cover art alone what it was. A tarot deck. A classic, vintage, Rider-Waite tarot deck.

“Earlene, I can’t, this is—”

“This has been sitting behind that glass counter for years, hon. Trust me. No one in this town wants it. Take it to the big city with you. Find your Knight. They say it’s good luck to have your first deck given to you.”

You held it carefully, turning it over to look at the other side. Warmth welled up in your chest, and a soft little sigh was all you could do to stop it from welling up in your eyes as well.

“Thank you. I’ll treasure them.” You promised.

Earlene squeezed your hands, getting a little misty herself. “I know you will. Now, you better be good in that city, glowing girl. I don’t want to see you on the news.”

Bob laughed at that and you shook your head, giving a sardonic little smile. “No promises.”

***

You sat on the living room floor that night, doing a facemask when Bob walked into the room, fiddling hands swallowed up by the soft cotton of his sweater. Rain pitter-pattered on the roof still. Light and delicate. He tilted his head, looking at you curiously.

“You’re green.”

You giggled, nodding. “I am. Clay mask. I’m not huge on the skincare stuff, but it helps sometimes, with all this salty sea air.”

He reached up and rubbed his face. “Huh. Should I be doing that too? Not important. Anyway, uh, I was just, uhhhhh…” He paused for a long time. You could practically see the dialogue options scrolling behind his eyes before he finally settled on one. “Heading up to bed.”

“Okay. Good night. Let me know if you need anything.” You told him, almost expectant for him to say more.

He didn’t though, just nodded, gave that soft sleepy smile, and said, “Goodnight.” He padded up the stairs back to his room. You listened to the rain in his absence, staring up the dark hallway, watching as the light clicked on and then off again. You smiled softly.

You hoped he was finding some peace and quiet in your little town, even if it was just for a little while.

The Beacon

The rain put you out like a light that night. You slept in the next morning for the first time in what felt like forever, woke up peacefully to the birds chirping, sunlight stretched across your pillowcase.

Something sizzled in the distance. Smelled like breakfast. You grinned, slipping out of bed and getting dressed before wandering down the stairs. Bob was indeed standing at the stove, cracking an egg into a sizzling hot pan. You watched as he scrambled them, stirring them around with a fork. He wasn’t super confident with the movements, but he was doing good.

He glanced up at you as you stepped down into the room, eyes almost glittering as he took you in. “Morning. Just making us some breakfast. I’m not much of a cook, but I can make eggs.” He hissed as he lost focus, hand grazing the edge of the hot pan. When he pulled it away to look, though, there was…nothing. No redness, no burn. Just his hand, as it was before. Odd, you thought.

“Does it hurt?” You asked, taking a step closer.

He shrugged. Lied. “A little.”

You reached out, letting your glowing palm smooth over the spot, giving him the tiniest bit of energy out of habit, clearing up the pain as easily as someone wiping a whiteboard.

He smiled a slow and earnest smile, those thick eyelashes fluttering down over his ocean eyes. “Thanks. Cool trick.”

“No problem. Thanks for breakfast.”

He chuckled and gave a shrug, stirring the eggs around again. Once they were cooked, he plated them up, bringing them over to the table and setting them on your thrifted placemats. You sprinkled some salt and pepper on yours, sipping some morning tea.

“Hey, um…I saw on the calendar you work tomorrow. I can cook dinner, if you want. So it’s nice and warm when you get back. I make a mean pasta.” He offered, poking his eggs with a fork. He bit his lip, eyes locked on the edge of the plate, flicking up to yours after a long moment.

You smiled, nodding. “We can go to the farmer’s market today, get some veggies.”

His face broke into a grin. “I’d love that.”

***

You led Bob up the rows of local vendors, pulling a little wagon behind you. He browsed thoroughly, hands playing with the ends of his sleeves. You picked out your favorites at the honey stand, a few more bottles than you usually did. The old man who ran it, Mr. McAllister, raised a bushy gray eyebrow.

“Stocking up there, (Y/N)?”

“I’m moving back to New York, actually.” You explained, giving a shrug. “So I’ll need some for the road.”

He frowned, but added another jar of honey to your bag with a wink. “On the house. Safe travels.”

You smiled softly. “Thank you.”

It was like that at every booth.

The guys you bought your chives and onions from with the awesome handlebar mustaches. The girl at the crochet booth. The longest stop was at the tea booth you so adored. The middle-aged woman that ran the booth motioned you closer, slipping a brown beaded bracelet off of her wrist and onto yours.

“Tiger’s Eye. For good luck in the big city.” She said.

You gave her hand a squeeze, thanking her for it. It was always the small town ladies that turned out to be witches, but the magic was appreciated nonetheless.

And as much as the locals loved you, they also loved Bob. He wandered the booths, asking questions, weighing tomatoes in his hands, feeling them to find the good ones. The Chive Brothers gave him a chive to chew on, which he did, munching it like a farmer with a piece of straw.

“Is this the boyfriend?” The old lady selling earrings with her granddaughter asked, motioning to Bob, who was asking the honey vendor about his bees.

You shook your head, watching him fondly. It wasn’t impossible to see why they’d think so. Especially when he turned around to catch your eyes from across the aisle. He pointed excitedly to some candles made from beeswax.

You grinned and followed him over, putting a hand on his arm to let him know you were standing there.

“They’re made of the beeswax they collect.” He said with a grin. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just thought it was cool.”

“You want one?”

His eyebrows shot up, looking like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “What? Oh, no. I’m fine. I…I don’t have…”

Bob had come into your home with that suitcase and only that suitcase. He didn’t have any money on him. Didn’t even have an ID. You still weren’t sure what to make of him, where he’d come from, what he’d been through to get to you. And of course, Bucky was never one for thorough explanations.

Without missing a beat, you looked at the candles on the table. “Well, what scent do you want?”

“You don’t have to…you’ve already done so much for me, it’s just a silly candle.”

You shrugged, handing Mr. McAllister a ten dollar bill. “Well, then tell him which one you want.”

Bob rolled his eyes, a reluctant grin tugging at the edge of his lip. “Alright, fine. I’ll take the eucalyptus one, please.”

***

The foghorn blared across the waves, the sound of it echoing for miles. In the distance, the lighthouse, spinning like a top, around and around and around. Its light stretched into the fog, arms reaching out towards the harbor. One big ship slugged through, crawling. A towering shadow. Two discernible lights roved. Like eyes.

You sat on the back deck, watching, knees curled up to your chest, chin resting there. You were glowing at a Level 3. White, dancing light, licking at your form like flames. Rainbows refracted on the beechwood railing. You took a long breath, letting it roll out of you, floating off into the fog.

The back door squeaked as it slid open and you turned, light dampening back to neutral.

“Hey.”

“Hey. You were…glowing.” Bob said, planted in his spot just inside the doorway.

“I do that sometimes, yeah.” You turned your head, ear tucked against your knees. “Wanna sit, or…just stand there?”

He chuckled, walking out onto the deck and sitting next to you on the back step. “Do you, uh…glow often?”

“Sometimes. I get headaches if I hold it in.”

Bob nodded. “Bucky called you Beacon. Kinda thought he said ‘bacon,’ actually. But…Beacon, like…lighthouse?”

You met his eyes, amusement flickering across your face. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

His curls rustled as he shook his head. “No, not really. I mean, I know the stuff you told me about like…helping Bucky and stuff, but…”

“The name didn’t really stick. Beacon. It was all we could come up with. I had a shirt with a lighthouse on it and…that was that.” You explained.

“So, you’re named after the shirt? Just like…”

“Well, I glow, too. Pretty bright, if I get all worked up. I, uh…live this close to one in case of that, actually. If I needed to get away. Glow super bright. Far enough away from people, hidden in plain sight. That, and the rent is super cheap because of the—” The foghorn blared, causing you to chuckle, pointing vaguely in that direction. “That. Because of that.”

He laughed, nodding. “Good trade-off, I’d say.”

You stared at the swivelling light. The other beacon. “I hope you never have to see me like that.”

He looked bewildered. “Why?”

“Well, it’s…kind of blinding, really. Like staring at the sun.” You breathed. “My lower glow is healing and gentle. When I’m all bright like that, it…hurts people.”

“Bad people, though.” Bob thought about it for a long moment. “I think it’d be kinda pretty. Like…well, like a lighthouse.” He shrugged. “We’ve gotta find you a better name than Beacon, though.”

A laugh bubbled from your lips. “We’ve got some time to workshop it.”

The Stray

There was nothing you enjoyed less than trying to explain ticket prices to old people. If your theater ran a promotion one time, they’d come around expecting that price forever because of an ad they saw on Facebook. And you’d had that conversation about twelve times that day. In addition to being yelled at because a boomer got confused over which theater he was supposed to be in. You were right. He was wrong. But that never seemed to matter in the end; not to them.

You ducked into the backroom and sent a text to your iPad, checking in on Bob. It was the longest day you’d left him alone for. A 9 to 6.

“Hey, buddy. Everything good at home?”

You didn’t see his reply until a few hours later, when it was slow enough to slip into the back again.

“I am good :) See u for dinner :P Bring your appetite, glowy lady.”

You laughed, unable to wipe the smile off your face as you typed your reply. “Is ‘glowy lady’ an official name pitch or…?”

And he sent back, “Do u not like it? :(”

Giggling, you typed another quick text. “I’ll add it to the list for consideration.”

One of your coworkers pushed through the swinging door between the counter and the backroom, looking you over. “You back on the apps again?”

“Huh? No. Why?” You replied, clicking the phone off and tucking it into your back pocket again.

“I haven’t seen you grin at your phone like that since you were dating. You got a hot date tonight or something?”

A warm flush spread across your cheeks, down your neck. “Nah, my, uh, houseguest is making dinner tonight. That’s all. He’s funny.”

“Funny, huh?”

“Yeah, funny. Sweet.” You shrugged, ignoring the swarm of butterflies that had kicked up in your stomach. Swirling and swirling.

“How’d you meet this guy again?”

“Friend of a friend.”

“Sounds like more than that now.”

A smile tugged at your lip, unable to defend yourself, really. “Getting there.”

***

You pulled into your driveway at a crisp 6:15, and for the first time in a long time, your house smelled like home. You opened the door, kicking your shoes onto the mat.

Bob was standing at the stove, using a wooden spatula to stir together a pasta dish in a casserole pan, chopping up chunks of softened cheese and stirring it in with the cooked tomatoes and herbs.

“Almost done over here.” He said over his shoulder. “How was work?”

“Long. And bad, also. Lots of cranky customers. I’m better now, though. That smells good as hell.”

“It’s not hard. I can teach you.” He poured the noodles into the dish and stirred them in the sauce, making sure everything was coated.

You watched him move, a fond smile crossing your face. He was wearing your apron, his hair tied back in a scrunchie you’d left in the living room, the ends sticking out all choppy because of the length.

And it was wrong. It was so wrong, but you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining walking up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, and burying your face in his shoulder. You tried to convince yourself it was because you’d been living alone for so long. You’d been single for so long, but the truth was, it was just something about him. Those soft eyes. He looked at you like you were glowing all the time. Like you were made of starlight.

But you doubted Bob was in the headspace for that kind of thing. Which is what made it feel so wrong.

He scooped out two bowls, motioning to the table he’d set with your leftover Halloween napkins and a few forks. You grabbed a drink from the fridge and slipped into the seat across from him.

“How was your day?”

Bob smiled, giving a shaky shrug. “Fine. It was good. Got some reading done. Kept hearing something by the back door, but I went to check, and I didn’t see anything.”

“Mmm, I’ll check it out later.”

“I know I keep saying it, but, uh, it’s really, uh…really nice here.” Bob said, poking around his pasta. He took a bite, smiling shyly.

“It is, isn’t it?” You ate some, too, the taste of the homemade sauce enveloping your tongue. “This is really good. Thank you for cooking for me.”

“Yeah, of course. You, uh…had a lot to work with. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a…fridge full of food.” He said it so easily, but you could tell he meant it. That made it sadder, you were sure.

You didn’t know what to say to that, eyebrows furrowing together.

He saved you the trouble. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine. I know how that…sounds. I…I’m doing a lot better now.” He took a long breath, holding it before letting it out. His eyes slid across the wall, over a cross-stitch tapestry of a pirate ship. “I like it here.”

“We can still visit. I’m planning on leaving some of the essentials here. We might need a safe house every now and again. I like it here, too.”

He seemed to make peace with that. That he could come back. “Cool. I’d like that.”

After dinner, you boxed up the leftovers, a little less than half the pan, and helped with the dishes. Bob wiped down the counters, stopping when he heard something outside the side door. He turned, peering out the window.

“I don’t see anything, but I swear I hear a—”

Bob was interrupted by a crisp Meow.

You smiled, turning away from the sink and walking over towards the cupboard, opening it to reveal a container of kibble. You scooped a heaping cup of it and opened the door, motioning Bob over. “You’re not allergic, right?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

You pulled the door open and there he was, Reginald the Lighthouse Keeper, the local stray. Immediately, he was against your ankles, rubbing his little cheeks against whatever skin he could find. You reached down, scratching behind his ears as he meowed insistently.

“I know, I know.” You walked out onto the step, pouring kibble into his little metal bowl, sheltered from the somewhat frequent rain by the awning above the door. “Here you go.”

“Whoooo is thisss???” Bob asked, face awash with affection as he looked down at the skinny orange cat with the big brown eyes, eagerly gobbling up the kibble.

You snatched up the second bowl, walking into the kitchen to get him fresh water from the sink and returned to find Bob crouched there, petting him, cooing babytalk. “That’s Reginald. He’s the local stray. Beloved pillar of the community.”

“Why doesn’t anyone take him in?”

“Oh, we’ve all tried. He doesn’t want it. Prefers to wander. But we all take care of him, make sure he’s not…eating too many birds, you know. And the local vet keeps him up to date on his shots.”

Bob pet him, hands confident for perhaps the first time since you’d met him, from his head, down to his tail, the end of it curling around his wrist. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “I love cats.”

“I think he loves you.” You grinned, leaning against the doorway. It was true. Reginald purred like a motor, leaning into Bob’s palms, nudging against his hand any time he dared to stop his motions.

“Animals are like that, you know. Just…bottomless, unconditional love. He just met me and already, he loves me.” Bob chuckled, petting his little head. “It’s hard not to love them right back.”

That was how you were starting to feel about Bob, really. You just met him. And yet…

Nothing Scary

It was another quiet day in Seaberg. After breakfast, you stood in the living room, stretching out your back and staring at the shelf where you kept all your records. Surely some of them could go, right?

“Records, huh? You have a lot of them.”

“Yeah, I’m a pack rat. We can do my CDs today, too. Maybe the DVDs.”

“Big day.” Bob nodded, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater. “Let’s do it.”

You pulled out each milk crate, evaluating each album with care as you sorted them. These were a lot harder to part with, but you did find a few that you didn’t resonate with anymore. Some, you’d have to leave here at the house, you decided, but there were a good few you wanted to bring to New York with you.

Of the losers, Bob did snag a few for his box. One of them, he very carefully slipped out of its cardboard and set it on your little turntable, dropping the needle. It crackled for a moment before swelling to life. An 80s soft rock album.

You grinned, watching him sway. “Bruce Springsteen?”

“I just love this song.” He admitted as the sound filled the room with warmth. Or maybe that was just the smile on his face.

And that was how it continued. You discarded records and Bob would scan through them and take songs on a test drive, listening to how they sounded. Some of them, he scrunched his nose at and put in your donation box. Others, he slipped into his own with that fond little smile on his face.

After the tenth box, you stood and stretched, twisting the tension out of your back. Bob put another song on, the familiar sound floating from the speaker. Dancing in the Moonlight, from an album of assorted 70s hits.

“Love this song.” You murmured, shoulders shimmying almost beyond your control. Your feet followed suit.

Bob chuckled, unable to drag his eyes away. Like a train crash, you were sure. And though you expected him to stay planted there, watch you make a fool of yourself, instead he wandered further into the room, following your lead. You giggled, dancing beside him. You offered your hand and he took it, spinning you around, which caught you off-guard. He had moves, kind of. Awkward moves, but moves no less.

He took one of your hands in each of his, pushing and pulling your arms to the rhythm of the song, eyes sparkling. You may have been the glowing girl, but he was glowing. Happy and unashamed.

At the end of the song, he let go of your hands, sweeping into a bow, curls falling in his face. He straightened up, cheeks flushed. “I, uh, I’m gonna get a drink.”

You stood in the empty living room as the next song kicked on, your heart racing still from your little activity. Well, that and other things. You’d…never seen him look so free before. Like while the music played, all of Bob’s baggage was far, far away, and he was just…light.

He came back into the room with two glasses of ice water and handed one to you. You took a few generous sips before setting it on a coaster on the coffee table.

“We should do something tonight.” Bob resolved. “See a movie or…?”

“There’s a drive-in not far from here.” You chimed. “I’d take you to my workplace, but we don’t do late showtimes on weekdays and we won’t be done organizing all this crap until like seven minimum.”

“Nothing scary?”

“Let me check.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket, pulling up their website to see what they were showing that evening. “Nope, nothing scary. 80s movies double-feature. Back to the Future and Weird Science.”

“Oh, sweet. That sounds fun. Maybe pick up some food on the way?” He suggested.

You nodded, lips curling around the words before they spilled out. “It’s a date.”

***

It took hours, but eventually, you’d weeded through all the media in your house and Bob had a giant stack of DVDs in his box. The rest, you took to the thrift store on your way out of town. It was a little chilly tonight, so you packed a hoodie, and tucked the blanket you were still crocheting into the back of the car to work on during the movie.

You hit a drive-thru at the burger place at the edge of town and then drove the ten or twenty minutes out to the drive-in. It was further up the coast, in a big empty field on a hill. You were sure anyone who lived anywhere near there got a free show every night, even if they couldn’t hear it.

You paid admission at the gate and then backed into your favorite spot, in the middle of one of the middle rows. Not too close, not too far. Off to the right side, there was a concession stand and the bathrooms, which were housed inside a building. It was nice. You hated porta-potties.

Bob grinned, looking around. “I’ve never been to one of these before. Didn’t know they still did them, actually.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty neat! They show good stuff sometimes. And the popcorn is super cheap. Bathrooms are right over there.” You told him, opening the car door and walking around to the trunk. You pulled it open, making sure the car was off properly so the battery wouldn’t drain, and arranged a few blankets and pillows, making the ideal nest for a double feature.

Bob carried the bag of food around and set it in the middle, slotting the drinks into the cupholders on either side, up by the tiny back windows of your SUV. He pulled out his fries, eating the few that were left. He’d started on them on the drive over, while they were still hot.

You ate too, making quick work of your burger, taking intermittent sips of your soda, so that by the time the movie started, you had your hands free to work on your blanket.

Bob took his time, savoring every bite, sucking the salt from his fingertips before moving on to the next thing. He took a long sip of his milkshake and then sat back for a bit, hands folded on his stomach, leaning back against the pillows. He watched as you worked on the blanket, using a massive, plastic crochet hook to weave the fluffy stuff together.

He reached a tentative hand out, touching it. He gave one of the rows a squish, eyes lighting up at the feeling of it between his fingers. “Woah! I did not expect that to feel like this.”

“They’re nice as cushioning. I made one for one of my college chairs to sit on. Made it like, twice as comfortable.” You told him.

“You did college?”

“Mmhmm. Just barely finished before I got a call from Sam Wilson. Creative Writing, which does me a lot of good out here, you can imagine.”

“Creative Writing.” Bob repeated. He chuckled, shrugging. “I mean, this seems like as good a place for it as any. This town feels like it was plucked straight out of a romance novel. Must help with the writing. The…vibes of it.”

“You’re telling me. I keep emailing Hallmark, but they don’t seem to want to film anything here. Missed opportunity.”

He laughed at that. “I, uh…never did college. Kinda…dropped out of high school. Been thinking about getting my GED, but…” He gave that shy little shrug that was so common when he was opening up about something rough. The ‘hey, it’s fine’ shrug. But you could always tell it wasn’t fine.

“I’m sure that’s something that could be arranged. When we get to New York.” You said, tilting your head.

He nodded, giving a strained little smile that you couldn’t quite decipher. It was about either the GED or New York, but one of the two was stressing him out, so you decided not to press it further.

The trailers started up and you glanced at the convenience stand. There was a short little line formed there. “You want popcorn?”

“I could go for popcorn.” He agreed, grateful for the change in subject.

You reached into your wallet, handing him a ten dollar bill and telling him to get whatever he wanted. He returned a few minutes later with a big popcorn and a bigger smile, settling back into the car. It rocked a little as he settled his weight, getting comfortable again. He set the tub of corn between the two of you, snacking idly as the trailers gave way to the intro of Back to the Future. You couldn’t help but grin as Marty got blasted back by the massive speakers in Doc’s garage.

It went by pretty fast. The movie and the blanket. You finished it about halfway through, knotting the end and weaving it in with your hand, pulling it through loops until the little tail disappeared into the fluff.

Bob glanced over, impressed. “Wow, you finished it!”

“Only took me like four months of procrastination.” You chuckled, folding it in half and draping it over the seats behind you, so it would be softer to lean on.

“Hey, better late than never, though. I couldn’t do something like that.”

As the movie continued, you could feel Bob’s train of thought veering off course. He was getting lost in thought, that contemplative little frown on his face. You watched, clinical. Scanning for the same signs you used to look for in Bucky. That there was someone else sitting at the steering wheel. But that wasn’t the case. He was just thinking. Spiraling, even. About what, you weren’t sure.

When you reached into the popcorn bucket, your hand brushed his and—

You were somewhere else now.

Shoes crunching through the snow as you approached the light streaming through the trees. Headlights. Screaming. They were screaming your name, the ones that were conscious.

“Hello?” You looked around, cold, cold air nipping at your cheeks, snowflakes catching in your tangled hair. “Hello?”

There was someone standing in the trees, watching. You searched, but couldn’t find them. You knew you were alone. Yet, the screaming persisted.

You picked up the pace, pushing past winter-soaked pines and unforgiving trunks, and then—

Sorry. I’m sorry. (Y/N)? A long sigh. Always making things worse…

Like being underwater. You pushed through the tunnel vision, resurfacing. You blinked a few times, taking a big breath.

Bob was leaning closer, staring at you, blue eyes blown wide with worry. The streetlights over by the concessions cast warm shadows on his face. But shadows no less. He peered out from behind his soft curls, waiting for you to say something.

“I’m okay. I…wow. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He breathed, sitting back a bit, tugging his sleeves down over his hands so it wouldn’t happen again. “Sorry. I-I don’t know how to control it. It’s just—”

“It’s okay.” You reassured, voice soft and even. “It’s okay. I…didn’t know you could do that.”

His fingers curled beneath the fabric of his sweater. He gave that sad little shrug again. “I…I’m…not really sure w-what all I can do, actually. ’S all kinda fuzzy, still. I thought it would come back to me, being out here, and some of it has, but…some of it, I’ve only seen footage of. I don’t…remember doing it.”

You nodded, listening. You reached out gently, touching his sleeve. He stared at your hand like he was afraid he’d burn you through his sweater, but he didn’t move. Sat frozen, letting it happen.

“It’s okay.” You repeated again. “It’s okay.” Then, because he still had that look in his eyes, like he was bracing for impact, “No one is mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

That one took. He blinked. Breathed a little. Nodded, some of the tension rolling out of his shoulders. He managed the tiniest smile in the world, but it was still a smile, and you could tell it was a real one. “I needed to hear that.”

You gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “I know you did.”

***

That night, as you laid awake in bed, you heard some rustling downstairs, shuffling around in the kitchen. You rolled over to look at your alarm clock. 2:22 in the morning.

The footfalls sounded up the stairs, extra loud on the creaky one. He stopped in front of your door for a long moment, hovering. You could almost feel his energy there through the door.

And then it passed, retreating back into the guest room.

Relieved, you laid back down, staring at the ceiling. Somewhere deep in the back of your mind, you knew that hadn’t been Bob, precisely. Exhausted, you quieted the voice, closing your eyes and going back to sleep.

Tags: @eywas-heir, @honig-bienchen, @thek8archive

#bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds imagine #sentry x reader #sentry imagine #thunderbolts #the thunderbolts #marvel #mcu imagine #mcu #the new avengers #robert reynolds

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honeyspeeches · 2 days ago

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Okay, so, here’s something I’ve been thinking about, and now I want your thoughts.

I’m new to the Voltron fandom, which means I’ve been grave-robbing old blogs to read meta, revisit old theories, and see what people were saying at the time. One thing that’s struck me as odd is how often people argue that Klance shouldn’t be considered a Rivals to Lovers ship—because, in their opinion, Lance wasn’t even close to Keith’s level. Hilariously, they’ll often say that James is Keith’s real rival, which... feels like a stretch. It’s mainly a one-sided grudge on James’s part.

What’s odd is that many beloved rivals-to-lovers ships also start with that same imbalance. Take Sasunaru — it begins with Naruto chasing Sasuke’s recognition, while Sasuke largely ignores him. The rivalry is lopsided, but that doesn’t disqualify it. If anything, it’s a classic dynamic: one side burns hotter, until the other is pulled in.

But here’s where Klance does feel different to me. Lance accepted that Keith was the universe’s chosen one—the destined leader, the better pilot, the figure everyone looked to. And instead of resenting him for it, Lance made peace with it. Lance chose to believe in Keith. There was no grand duel, no dramatic declaration, no "I finally caught up to you/beat you"—just Lance, with a heart full of belief, quietly choosing Keith over his own dreams.

How do you think Klance differs from or fits into the classic rivals-to-lovers trope?

- Lance Anon

Ohhhhh my god ok first of all I love you forever and ever for asking me this question and drawing a direct parallel to Sasuke and Naruto because I LOVE Naruto and I especially love Sasuke and Naruto’s relationship. If there’s anything I love talking about more than Voltron it’s Naruto. Secondly, it’s soooo funny that you did this, I’m not sure if it was on purpose but I actually have already written an extensive analysis on the similarities between Sasuke and Naruto vs. Keith and Lance in Voltron is a Love Story.

Before I basically copy-paste everything that I wrote there, though, I feel like I do have to clarify a few things (I've put it under the cut cause this turned out wayyy longer than I planned lol).

Firstly, what you say here:

it begins with Naruto chasing Sasuke’s recognition, while Sasuke largely ignores him.

Well... it seems that way upon retrospect, but in fact Naruto's main drive in the very beginning of the manga was his desire to be recognised by the village as a whole rather than just by Sasuke:

[Naruto, Vol. 1, Chapter 001: Uzumaki Naruto, p. 13 ; Vol. 1, Chapter 004: Hatake Kakashi, p. 6]

This is because he is very often rejected by everyone in the village and ignored by them, since he has the nine-tailed fox inside of him. He lashes out and starts trouble to draw their attention to him. But once his teacher, Iruka, treats him well and acknowledges him, Naruto decides to try for something nobler, as we see above.

He doesn't start desiring for Sasuke's acknowledgement until after Sasuke saves him:

[Naruto, Vol. 2, Chapter 010: Two Down, p. 14]

Naruto was very impressed by Sasuke's skills, and he wants to live up to his strength.

And Sasuke doesn't ignore him at all, even though he tries to appear that way, because he defends Naruto when Sakura talks shit about him:

[Naruto, Vol. 1, Chapter 003: Uchiha Sasuke, pp. 21-22]

and all of his fond memories of Naruto (that he thinks about as he's dying after he saved Naruto) include almost all the times he "ignored" him:

[Naruto, Vol. 3, Chapter 027: Awaken !!, p. 14]

Sasuke is also driven to get stronger by Naruto:

[Naruto, Vol. 8, Chapter 066: Sakura's Request, p. 15 ; Vol. 20, Chapter 176: Bitter Rivalry, p. 11]

So, they motivate each other a lot, and their rivalry is not as lopsided or one-sided as it seems.

As I said in Voltron is a Love Story, Lance and Keith resemble Naruto and Sasuke extremely much, and follows their story progression almost to a T. I’ll insert here everything that I wrote about their similarities, though a bit more condensed (if you’d like to read the whole thing I encourage you to read all of Voltron is a Love Story). Additions are marked in Green.

"Keith and Lance’s rivalry is modeled very closely after Sasuke and Naruto. Lance and Keith are direct contrasts to each other, the same way Naruto and Sasuke are direct contrasts to each other, all the way down to their color palette. Naruto and Sasuke’s color palettes are yellow/orange and blue/purple which are on opposite sides of the color wheel from each other.

Naruto and Sasuke also receive sun and moon tattoos, emphasising their contrasts further:

[Naruto, Chapter 672: Night Guy…!!, p. 8]

Here are a few examples from a post I made a while ago, of the contrasts between Lance and Keith:

"Thinking about Keith living in the desert for a year and Lance missing the beaches of his home. Thinking about how alone Keith is vs how big lance’s family is. Thinking about quiet Keith vs loudmouth Lance. Thinking about Keith being short-range vs Lance being long range. Thinking about Keith being impulsive vs Lance being thoughtful. Keith being an early riser vs Lance sleeping in. Thinking about Keith being yin and Lance being Yang. I am not ok btw"

(quoting to preserve the image limit.... damn you tumblr let me upload more than 30 images !!!)

As well as Lance being an active protagonist vs Keith being a passive protagonist, as mentioned in the main character analysis. (still not ok to this day btw.)

And a screencap from Season 1 that pretty much sums it up:

[Season 1, Episode 7: Return to the Balmera, 18:59]

Moreover, remember, when I compared Voltron to ATLA, which is an actual war story, and found it lackluster in comparison? Well, when I compare it to Naruto’s world-building, a lot of things align.

In Naruto, we also don’t see anyone who isn’t a soldier. We know that a village exists of ordinary people, whom the soldier villages are meant to protect, just as we know ordinary people of the Galra must exist, ‘cause otherwise, how have they kept going for 10,000 years? But we never see them. Just like how we never see them in Naruto.

And another curious similarity is that Iruka, a very important authority figure to Naruto, has a scar across his nose… just like Shiro, who is a very important authority figure to Lance…

But Lance and Keith aren’t just modeled after Naruto and Sasuke concept wise. In fact, their story progression, and even some details are eerily similar to Naruto and Sasuke.

In Naruto, Sasuke is introduced as someone Naruto hates because he “acts all cool.”. But we later learn that Sasuke actually means a lot to Naruto and vice versa.

[Naruto, chapter 228: Kakashi’s Premonition, p. 10]

Lance similarly introduces Keith as someone he hates, because Keith is always trying to one-up him. But we later learn that they mean a lot to each other:

[Season 8, Episode 11: Uncharted Regions, 06:38]

Another way in which Keith’s introduction is similar to Sasuke’s introduction, is that both Naruto and Lance make some sort of comment on Sasuke and Keith’s appearance…

Naruto saying Sasuke “acts like he’s cool”

[Naruto, Chapter 003: Uchiha Sasuke, p. 6]

and Lance drawing attention to Keith’s mullet

[Season 1 Episode 1: The Rise of Voltron, 46:00]

and again, after some time has passed:

[Naruto, chapter 285: The Person from Root!!, pp. 6-5]

[Season 6, Episode 4: The Colony, 08:04]

and both Naruto and Lance have a strong reaction to them:

[Naruto, Chapter 003: Uchiha Sasuke, p. 6]

[Season 1 Episode 1: The Rise of Voltron, 30:37]

Another parallel is Keith’s decision to leave, impacting Lance deeply. In Naruto, Sasuke also leaves, impacting Naruto deeply. So much in fact, that it becomes the plot of the whole last half of the manga, with Naruto chasing after him to save him from darkness.

Sasuke left because of Naruto, because he wanted to break the bond between them that he deemed as a weakness, keeping him from plunging into darkness and despair. In an effort to become stronger, he has to end all of his bonds with the people he holds most dear. This is the whole motivation behind the first Valley of the End fight, as well as the second.

[Naruto, Chapter 698: Naruto and Sasuke V, p.19]

Similarly, Keith also left because of Lance.

[VLD, Season 4, Episode 1: Code of Honor, 15:34]

But he lied about it, just like how Naruto lied about why he chased Sasuke:

[VLD, Season 4, Episode 1: Code of Honor, 21:18]

[Naruto, Chapter 470: Killer B vs. Kisame!!, pp. 5-6]

So, Keith left because of Lance, similarly to how Sasuke left because of Naruto. And we know that Naruto is very motivated by Sasuke, because that’s the point and plot of the whole manga. But is Lance motivated by Keith? Well, what do we know Lance wants more than anything? He wants to prove himself. Specifically, he wants to prove himself worthy. And what helped spurn this on, again? That’s right. Iverson’s comparison to Keith in the very first episode.

It is in Iverson’s comparison to Keith that Lance becomes motivated to find Pidge on the roof, which catalyses the plot, because Lance wants to prove that he’s earned his spot in the fighter class. What better way to show that than to tackle the problem Iverson pointed out, their lack of teamwork. So, Lance catalyses the plot by looking for Pidge, making sure all three of them are there on the roof when Shiro crashes, which is motivated by the comparison to Keith. And he further catalyses the plot when he follows Keith to the tent. His rivalry with Keith drives him, but it also blinds him.

Let’s take the tests from the second episode as an example. Here, Lance is pretty confident in his bond with the Blue Lion, and in fact, he seems to be doing pretty well, until he starts goading Keith into going faster, being blinded by his rivalry with Keith, and his need to measure up with him. Which is very interesting. Almost like it’s foreshadowing for how Lance can’t reach his full potential until his relationship changes with Keith, and he stops measuring up with him and competing against him. And when can he do that? When he’s equal with him. Which is what started happening in season 3.

[Season 3, Episode 2: The Red Paladin, 10:20]

It wasn’t until Lance accepted Keith as the new leader and himself as his right-hand man that Lance really started to grow, as we discussed in the Red Lion section above. This is when he sets aside his own ego to strengthen the team and support Keith, and he finally opens up about his true insecurities.

But they aren’t completely equal here, because Keith is the head of Voltron, the “ultimate leader” of the team, and Lance already feels inferior to him, having taken his spot in the Garrison without having “earned it”, no matter how much Keith listens to Lance. It only takes Keith pulling rank to completely wipe away any illusion of equality between them, which is what happens with Shiro in season 5 [Season 5, Episode 3: Postmortem, 04:14]

Similarly, Naruto is shown to compare himself a lot to Sasuke, wanting to become as good as him as I also discussed above. [Naruto, Chapter 010, p. 17; chapter 227, p. 16]

Just like Lance, this was also spurred on from a comparison by his teacher. [Naruto, Chapter 003, p. 12]

And everyone sees that Naruto is purely motivated by Sasuke:

[Naruto, Vol. 35, Chapter 319: The Source of the Commotion, p. 21]

Another parallel that I forgot to mention in Voltron is a Love Story is that Keith is the first one to acknowledge and listen to Lance just as Sasuke is the first one to acknowledge Naruto (aside from Iruka).

[Season 3, Episode 3: The Hunted, 12:51]

The way Naruto manages to become equal to Sasuke is by resolving to save Sasuke. His pure resolve and his pure love for Sasuke is what gives him strength to fight against him, directly contrasting Sasuke’s pure resolve to end their bond, seeing his love for Naruto as a weakness instead of as a strength.

Furthermore, Naruto is a main character without an antagonist. Think Demon King level of antagonist. There are villains he defeats, but no one villain whom he has to overcome as a part of his arc. In fact, Naruto’s wish of being accepted in the village is fulfilled already once he defeats Pain. So, why didn’t the manga end there? Because Pain isn’t Naruto’s antagonist. No one is. The closest we get to an antagonist for Naruto is Sasuke. But Naruto doesn’t want to overcome him, he wants to be equal with him, because Naruto loves him.

Huh… who else do we know in this show, who checks all the boxes of being a main character, but doesn’t have an antagonist? Lance. Man, this guy keeps showing up at the end of everything, huh?

Similarly to Naruto, the closest Lance has to an antagonist is Keith.

Remember when I said this, in Lotor’s subsection?

“In season 1 of ATLA, Zuko’s antagonist seemed to be Aang, the same way Aang’s antagonist seemed to be Zuko. But in the season 1 finale, we realize that this isn’t true. Aang’s true antagonist is Firelord Ozai and Zuko’s true antagonist is his sister, Azula. Season 1 finale is when Zuko becomes a true deuteragonist to Aang.”

Well, I argued there that this mirrors Lotor becoming Allura’s deuteragonist, after it seemed like he was Keith’s antagonist but remember, they aren’t the main characters. Lance and Keith are.

So, could Keith be a deuteragonist to Lance? No. Although Keith and Lance’s arcs are intertwined like Zuko and Aang’s are, both of their arcs are about love, unlike Zuko and Aang, but similar to Sasuke and Naruto. Keith is Lance's love-interest, the same way Sasuke is a love-interest to Naruto. Allura is a red-herring for Lance's love interest, the same way Sakura is a red-herring for Naruto, and the same way Zuko and Aang are red-herrings for each other, masking their true antagonists. In the case of Naruto and Lance, Sakura and Allura are masking their true love-interests, Sasuke and Keith, respectively.

Furthermore, Keith is a very significant part of Lance’s arc, because Keith is also one of the sources of it! This is why Allura is foiled against Keith, because of both of their significance to Lance. But unlike Allura, Keith helps Lance fulfill his arc. In Naruto, Sakura is foiled against Naruto to emphasise the contrast between Naruto’s pure selfless love for Sasuke, and Sakura’s selfish love for Sasuke, pointed out in this analysis. Similarly, remember when I said that Allura and Keith were often mirrored invertedly, to emphasise a contrast between them? Well, this is the purpose. Allura is foiled against Keith to emphasise the contrast between Keith’s love for Lance and Allura’s rejection of Lance.

Naruto is a great example of a story people think is about war but is actually about love. The whole point and plot of the manga is Naruto’s love for and devotion to Sasuke and vice versa. The manga ends with Naruto and Sasuke reconciling after being apart for the whole manga, with Naruto confessing his love for Sasuke and with Sasuke happily admitting defeat to Naruto’s love for him.

[Naruto, Chapter 698: Naruto and Sasuke V, p. 23]

Sasuke’s resolve to end their bond lost to Naruto’s resolve to keep it.

I can confidently say that Lance and Keith are mirrored in Naruto and Sasuke. Their story progression follows that of Naruto and Sasuke almost exactly. But there’s something missing. The last big fight.

Lance’s arc comes to a head and is fulfilled once he’s on equal footing with Keith. Throughout the show, Lance keeps following in his footsteps, again, to the tent, to the Blue Lion and to the Red Lion. Lance even gets a sword in season 5, which is Keith’s weapon.

Even when Keith is the head, he is the one who forms the sword, even though it materializes from the Red Lion, so it should be Lance:

[VLD, Season 3, Episode 6: Tailing a Comet, 18:41 ; Season 6, Episode 7: Defender of All Universes, 02:03]

But it’s not. Again, because it’s Keith’s weapon. The show has effectively pavloved us to associate swords with Keith. So when Lance unlocks his sword form with the red bayard (Keith’s original bayard)

[Season 5, Episode 3: Postmortem, 9:16]

We are meant to be thinking of Keith. Lance activated his sword form right after Shiro yelled at him to stay out of it, which hurt Lance a lot. And he went to the training room to cope. The only other character that we’ve seen train alone in the training room is Keith, so we’re meant to associate this scene with Keith, and so does Lance. Keith was most likely on his mind while he was training, thinking about how things seemed to be better when Keith was there… which triggered the sword form. All of this combined foreshadows and suggests a fight between the two. Again, similar to how Naruto unlocks new powers every time he thinks about Sasuke and vice versa, that keeps foreshadowing a fight between them.

And it is further suggested by all the parallels to them.

Naruto is very famous for all the parallels to Naruto and Sasuke in its own story, their relationship mirrored across generations, but always with something slightly different, pointed out in this analysis. The parallels are meant to emphasise how Naruto and Sasuke are different from previous generations. They can break the cycle, because they love each other.

Well, would you believe me if I say that Keith and Lance are also paralleled?

[Season 3, Episode 7: The Legend Begins, 22:13 ; Season 6, Episode 5: The Black Paladins, 16:38]

You don’t have to believe me, you just have to look at these screenshots. Notice how in both fights, everyone involved fought with swords, even Shiro who usually never uses a sword, opting to just use his hand instead. Even he used a sword in his fight against Keith.

Every generation of Red and Black paladins have had a standoff, except for Lance and Keith. In all the fights, one of the paladins died (well… except for Shiro but we already know he was supposed to die… until he didn’t), and Keith and Lance were supposed to break the cycle, because of their love for each other; specifically, because of Lance’s love for Keith. Instead of fighting Keith to overcome him, he fights Keith to save him.

The foreshadowing doesn’t just stop in their parallels. We also have massive indicators from scenes in the Astral Plane throughout the show, which consistently feature two red and blue stars. This has been pointed out many times before, and I am pointing it out here, again:

[Season 2, Episode 7: Space Mall, 15:57]

[Season 6, Episode 6: All Good Things, 01:21]

These are all shots of Blue and Red stars consistently animated in the Astral Plane across seasons and production eras. Both of these scenes involved a fight/standoff between two Black Paladins (Zarkon vs. Shiro and Shiro vs. Keith). This not only foreshadows a fight between Keith and Lance, but it further implies that Lance would be a Black Paladin for their fight/standoff in the Astral Plane.

As I’ve argued throughout this whole thing, Lance’s arcs of love and self-worth tie into each other. Similar to Naruto, Lance becomes equal to Keith once Lance has a pure resolve to save Keith through his love for him. In the showdown, both Lance’s arcs of insecurity and sexuality will be fulfilled in the fight, when he ultimately declares his love for Keith, making Keith “lose” the fight to Lance’s love, the same way Sasuke “lost” to Naruto’s love."

There was no grand duel, no dramatic declaration, no "I finally caught up to you/beat you"

The reason that we never saw this fight happen though is because it was tied to Lance’s ascension to the Black Lion which the writers were told to abandon in the feedback they received when they sent in the scripts for approval. Otherwise the lead up to Keith and Lance’s fight is as consistent as the foreshadowing of Lance’s ascension to the Black Lion, which I also establish in Voltron is a Love Story.

This is what I say in the IP & Other Legal Things section of Voltron is a Love Story:

"I think Bob Koplar wanted Lance removed as Black Paladin for many reasons, most likely because it was tied to a Klance arc, establishing them as canon, and he didn’t want [a queer] relationship in a show he deemed as a boys show [1 mentioned multiple times], a queer relationship which involves a legacy character and the main character. But I think another reason is much the same as why he wanted Lotor removed. He wanted to maintain the status quo of what he saw Voltron as: Lotor as the villain, and Voltron being led by Keith, and only Keith. Keith is a legacy character, meaning that his story isn’t just up to DreamWorks, or Netflix, but it’s up to its owner, namely WEP. Keith always ends up as the Black Paladin. And that legacy would be ruined if all of a sudden Lance is now the Black Paladin. He didn’t want another character competing for the role, he wanted Keith to be the pilot of the Black Lion in the endgame."

So to answer this question of yours:

How do you think Klance differs from or fits into the classic rivals-to-lovers trope?

Klance fits perfectly, because it is almost exactly modelled after the most famous rivalry duo, Naruto and Sasuke. But the resolution to their rivalry was cut out of the series.

#asks #voltron #vld #klance #lance mcclain #keith kogane #voltron analysis #vld analysis #voltron meta #vld meta #sasunaru #naruto

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inchidentally · 1 day ago

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Been around since McLaren Toon’d, let me assure fandom Landoscar are the least PR teammate pairing I’ve ever seen *outside of teammates who outright hate each other. Carlos, Daniel and Lando are 3of McLaren’s biggest PR selling points (possibly of the whole league). Lando hasn’t turned his PR onto Oscar at all - not sure Oscar’s ever had any. I wouldn't even know they hang out until fans found out because nowhere boosts it not even McLaren.

I still cannot believe McLaren had a whole animated series for years ;__; and then w Carlos and Daniel there was like a whole tv show worth of high quality material every season but now we might get smth done with a phone and above 1 min if we're lucky (and that lbr this is precisely down to landoscar not liking PR work)

and no fr anon I literally got sucked into f1 fandom at all bc carland0 and dand0 pandered to my interests hard enough for me to get past not rly liking sports just bc the bromance PR game was so strong aslfsaljfashas

like I always wanna make clear I do LOVE the pandering and accept it gladly and most of my rb is content are the guys who love hand feed it to me and yes those friendships are real ! but fans looking at these guys who arrange pro videographers for social visits and post every single time they interact on sm and fully team, f1 main, global sponsors etc etc repost every scrap about them and get massive fan engagement.... only to then look at Lando and Oscar and say THEY are the PR friendship ?? like whattttttttt

and there are literal McLaren girlies who don't know they hang out outside of work bc they don't ever post it in sm and we rely on someone else or a fan or another driver mentioning it. I've even seen some who don't know that Max (and even P) talk about Oscar and they've remained friends bc fair enough no PR is made of any of that, you have to follow Max's stream content to find out. but that's the whole point - you'll only see landoscar's friendship if you pay attention and look for it, it's not promoted or pushed at ALL. and they haaaaaate doing PR unless they're given space to relax and be themselves. but as soon as they're given a script to work with or too many cameras they clam up.

so on the one hand I can't blame ppl for getting the wrong take on landoscar precisely bc they don't do a PR layer to their relationship.

but as one of these legacy rpf bromance fans myself, u cannot in all honestly receive such bounteous content from two men about their friendship and not realize oh yea most of this is fully intended to have this effect it's literally point of sale bromance content and we as fans are impulse buyers lsafgjlsagfal

(I think it's why charlos to me is extra compelling bc yes they happen to work amazingly well for PR content but!! they also do not hide the other realities of their relationship and don't try to gloss over how complex and sometimes fraught it is)

but straight up wanna know what ppl think the PR meetings would be to artificially create Lando and Oscar saying how Oscar won't play golf despite being invited and then a year later Lando telling a small group of fans at a Jack Daniel's m&g that he wishes Oscar would play padel and then like a week or two later Oscar's playing padel (when tennis was always his preferred game w Kim and Mark) and then they start playing padel together in Monaco and on the road... or "okay Oscar you're gonna randomly and not at all consistently help Lando with words but we won't even make it a thing or acknowledge it like we would have with other pairings" or "ok so you guys are gonna smile super affectionately at each other but otherwise be really awkward with reading this copy ok it'll be certified gold"

and yea as you say anon this is literally the first pairing in decades that McLaren has dropped the usual PR game with - if fans think this complete lack of pushing landoscar as a bromance (when they still very much do with carland0) is PR trying to sell a teammate relationship then just scroll back on the McLaren yt page babes

#inchreplies #lowk will always love that landoscar is this sleeper ship bc no one's decided to run a campaign against lily #and that we're getting a very authentic experience w them as teammates like #for ppl to think oh they must not like eo since they're not performing friendship loud or coordinated enough #it means we can actually tell what's going on with their dynamic if you just straight up watch them #wank adjacent #not really but for ppl who are avoiding this stuff entirely

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r0manceplanet · 1 day ago

Note

Hey hey! I'm dropping my info in for the matchup exchange, looking for a romantic matchup for Forsaken!

I mainly use they/them but also occasionally he/him, I don’t have a set gender but I’m non-binary of some sort. IRL I prefer just women but fictionally I like all genders, so I have no preference for my match. My hair is short, naturally dark brown but I dye it black. Hazel eyes, I’m not pale but also not really tan. I actually have a few tattoos, on my arm, thigh, lower back and calf. Not that tall, only about 5’5 at the age of 18.

I’m pretty quiet, especially around new people, but when I become comfortable or bring up things I know then I can get loud. I mainly hang out in my room when available,

My MBTI is INTP-T while my zodiac is a Libra!

I love writing for many different fandoms alongside reading fanfics and book series. I tend to collect and buy a lot of prints, keychains and anything imbetween, I’ve started going to conventions and cosplaying! I also do the occasional roller skating and did sky yoga for a while. (Yoga on silks basically)

I like collecting things, mainly crystals, legos and candles. Big fan of horror and thriller movies. I like making characters, especially D&D, I’m currently in two different campaigns.

I don’t like straight up romance movies, movies with a romance subgenre are fine. I don’t do anything sexual irl, fics are fine but I’m not that comfortable.

My main love languages are quality time and gift giving.

Who i kin/relate to:

Gryffindor house with a mink patronus | Cabin 9 (Hephaestus) | I would most likely be in the healers or scribe quadrant from the empyrean series

MATCHUP EXCHANGE #2

A/N: Hello hiiii!! thank you for the matchup exchange I absolutely loved who you matched me with! I hope you also enjoy whoever you get! Here I go!

Your match in Forsaken is…

Noob!

• Hear me out, when I looked though your info my brain immediately went to Noob, especially if they were scene during their prime, I feel you both would match each other so well like ?!?? I feel like they would need someone like you to be around with, and you are perfect for that!

• You both were very quiet when you both met each other, it took some time to get over that and get to know each other, and once you did you guys became inseparable, stuck like glue, and never seen apart from each other, you are the person that protects them from the killer since they tend to freeze up when the killer tried to hit them.

• Before they were forsakened, they were once an outgoing and cheerful person, but when they lost their best friend, Guest 666, they became more withdrawn and radio silent over the time, even sometimes with you they can be quiet, usually they start to talk more since you are there with them now, but they will always be reserved and quiet.

• I feel like you would get them into reading more, I feel like they’re the type of person to not really read so much, they seem to enjoy gaming and playing games more, which fits really well when you allow them to play games with you, it would be a nightly thing to do together to keep your mind off from the horrors of everything. Anyways, they would start to read more from you, and they would mostly read fanfics to start it off LMAO.

• I feel like they would fall more in love with you whenever you give them gifts, it makes them all fuzzy inside and makes them turn all flustered around you, it’s such a cute sight to look at, they love building legos with you, and they even get you into the habit of skateboarding (especially during midnight or in the early morning) I definitely think that they are really skilled at skating, before all of these things happened.

• I feel like you both would do those couple cosplays, when during forsaken you both would just be together in your shared cabin and cosplay as your favorite characters and dance together with music blasting through the thin walls for all to hear, you both would get so many noise complaints, they’re lucky that you both don’t do it during nighttime.

• I absolutely love the idea of you both together, whatever situations you both have you’ll always have each other no matter what, they’re less scared of things now with you around, they make sure nothing will happen to you like what happened with his old friend from a long time ago.

Round-ups: Guest 666, John Doe, Azure

#forsaken x reader #forsaken #forsaken roblox #forsaken x y/n #forsaken x you #roblox #roblox x reader #roblox forsaken x reader #forsaken matchups #forsaken matchup #matchup exchange #matchup #roblox matchups #matchups #noob forsaken

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orphic-eluvian · 2 days ago

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Ok well since I'm on the topic already I really want to share my thoughts about the Altmer in more detail because now it's on my mind.

I want to bring up two main points: Comparing the Altmer/Thalmor to Nazis and Altmer lore and representation.

So, first of all, comparing Altmer/more specifically Thalmor to Nazis is actually incredibly insensitive in so many ways, yet it’s one of the most popular jokes in the fandom. Listen, it’s a fictional universe. It’s a fictional fantasy race. Nazis and their ideology are a real thing that is still incredibly dangerous to this day! That still oppresses people! Like there are actual neo-Nazis that are active in their ideology and commit terrible crimes in the name of that ideology to this very day! And I don’t think it’s funny to compare that to a fictional universe that quite frankly has nothing to do with real life racial supremacy. I think it takes away from the seriousness those terms should have and makes all those things that harm real people into a joke.

I could go on and on about this. But I need to stay focused and get into the Altmer lore and how it took a huge turn for the worst after Skyrim.

Most notably, an entire culture is simplified into a bunch of xenophobic racial supremacist eugenicists that want to take over the world (and in some theories, straight up delete it). Listen, just because a culture has a militant branch of fascists that are all of those things, doesn't mean that everyone who belongs to that culture is going to have the same opinions. I think it's super unfair to dumb down an entire race of people to "racist piss elves." Listen, it was funny right after Skyrim came out and people were clowning on the Thalmor, then the Altmer in general. But after the thousandth time seeing the same old joke it's really not funny anymore. It's just weird. And if you express liking the Altmer in any way, you're deemed a Nazi! Like, I think we need to grow some braincells here please.

Anyway I'm sorry to rant but this has been on my mind for a while, I just haven't been active in the TES fandom for like a year. I'm glad (and horrified) to be back.

#long post #rambles #elder scrolls #the elder scrolls #tesblr #altmer

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alirasworlds · 2 days ago

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Alrighty with your permission Jungle I'm gonna just, ramble and try to explain this cause this sort of thing has bothered me for ages so, might as well throw my thoughts on this into the ring.

Now I will note I feel the main divide between those fine with toxic ships and those who wish everyone who dares enjoy them a painful death is absolutely a generational thing, especially since media literacy has been slowly dying the more younger people get online.

Younger people have more of an obsession with making sure everything is pure, morally correct, where as older ones have a firmer line between reality and fiction and more media literacy due to being on the internet before it got wacked by shareholders getting pissy with sites allowing certain content.

Now, I'm of the opinion of "I don't care what you ship or what you write/do in your private free time, just do NOT ATTACK others if they don't share your view.", and I'm pretty sure most people that have working brains that like ships like EternalBerry and such are more than well aware it is nOT good or healthy.

(do not come at me with the ones who don't have working brains and thinks it's not toxic, they don't count)

So why do they still like it?

Quite simply, as toxic as it is, it can be more compelling or more interesting than more "safe" options, like, random ship out of my hat, PVxHolly. No I don't ship it, but I can easily point to something like it being the "safer" option between the two Holly ships I've listed.

Another case of a ship dynamic that in my case I don't understand at all myself is more often than not the one where the two characters very clearly hate and/or can't stand the other but people say it's "true love". Another case of can be more compelling or interesting to explore than safer options.

(again I repeat I don't understand it myself, but it is a thing.)

Does it mean EternalBerry shippers condone or support such a toxic relationship? Hell no!! What someone likes in fiction does not reflect on their own preferences in real life. Like SURE I find the idea of a Vampire taking a bite out of a oc erotic or neat within the confines of a story where it's contained, but does that mean I want someone to bite into my throat irl and cause me to bleed out?

No.

There's a very clear line I feel most newer/younger people don't develop with the fiction they consume and the fandom they interact with. Where the lines are so blurred between reality and fiction to where fictional people are treated more important than real people, and people feel threatened/concerned over what is, ultimately, not real.

There's this obsession the internet keeps getting every now and then with making things "morally right", "morally acceptable", "safe and pure", I've seen it with trying to censor sites like AO3, others have seen it happen to older sites like fanfiction.net which resulted in AO3's creation as an unbiased, uncensored Archive that isn't beholden to any censorship.

And the sad thing is, people aren't always polite or nice when expressing the view points above. More often than not, they see fit to ATTACK anyone who dares like anything not "Morally acceptable", not pure, not safe, even though it ultimately doesn't personally affect them. I've seen cases of people getting bullied off the internet for daring to like a ship or character, or do even worse things they can't undo cause the harassment got so bad.

It's one thing to disagree, it's another to harass, send death threats and bully someone for what they ship.

Now to circle back around to the original post, I don't think the CRK reddit is saying the ship isn't toxic, that it's not bad or whatever, but I feel implementing that sort of rule is to try to prevent harassment and death threats being flung at people for just what pixels on the screen they ship for whatever reason. Especially considering how rabid some CRK fans can be.

It's not defending toxic ships, it's not defending whatever shippers that happen to be there, it's not allowing an environment to build where people feel comfortable threatening others cause they like a certain ship or another.

I'm not the moderators of the reddit, I don't know their reasons, but as someone who's been on the internet since I was seven and raised myself from 2007 onward on the internet on my laptop I've seen things, and it's only gotten worse as time goes on. Cause people don't want to curate their own slices of the internet, they could block and filter words so they don't see things they don't want to, but most don't and want the entire internet to cater to their preferences and views.

Which, to my unsurprise, the internet cannot, and in most cases, will not do, especially since alot of older internet folks are tired of younger ones trying to censor them. Sure you can ban it from circles, sites, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. That there isn't someone, somewhere out there that enjoys what squicks you. That's just human nature and how the internet is.

So, to answer Jungle's question and hopefully bring this novel to a close, "it feels like an oxymoron to call the ship romantic and yet acknowledge it's toxic and unhealthy - Those can't be two views that can co-exist at the same time, right?"

Yes, the two views can co-exist, especially cause in the real world, not all romantic entanglements or just romance is healthy, not all romance is "good". A "happy/good romance" can eventually turn into a "unhealthy and toxic relationship", and there can be genuine love still even then, even if it's not good for either party. There's unhealthy relationships abound, and in fiction even moreso where it's not going to leap out of the page and hurt you.

Fiction is a safe place to explore things you cannot do in real life, in a safe and controlled manner where you can step away if it bothers you, you are just a click or two away from getting away from it if it truly bothers you. Cause above all, fiction is not real, and those who write or make content that is disturbing or not "Morally okay" do not deserve to be harassed and bullied into removing themselves from life for it.

If you need an example of one such person, look at Steven King. His books contain horrifying topics, events, and quite alot of people dying, does he deserve to die for what he depicts in his very specifically labeled Horror Novels?

No. No one does.

And in case I need to state it, I am not defending anyone in this mess, not the people mad over the rule or the moderators who decided to put it in place. No one.

Hell I don't fucking give too much of a shit about any of it cause I'm busy with my own life and I've got enough mental problems to not give a shit, I'm honestly JUST trying to explain both why the reddit mods may have added that rule and why shippers of Ancients x Beasts ship what they do.

I don't speak for everyone.

I'm just speaking from the experience of someone who doesn't think people deserve to get harassment or death threats over what they do or don't enjoy in fiction.

From someone who has seen that play out, and people permanently going dark or permanently saying "goodbye life" as a result.

Cookie Run Kingdom fandom has serious problem with shipping to the point that the mods at reddit had to create a rule to protect toxic ships

I'm not kidding. I just made a post on reddit talking about how toxic the ships between Beasts and Ancients are and it got taken down for "Annoying fandom discourse rule" and it is clearly stated that "You are not allowed to complain about a ship NO MATTER HOW TOXIC or impossible it is as long as it doesn't fall into pedophilia, incest or zoophilia". It cannot get any clearer than that that this fandom has a serious problem with toxic ships.

Not only are toxic ships acceptable, this cultivates a culture of excusing/enabling abusers and I honestly had to remove myself from that community.

I wanted to believe that the people who shipped the Ancients and the Beasts are only a select few but after this, it is clear that the toxicity is welcomed and celebrated.

Hollyberry Cookie is my absolute fav. cookie. I connect with her the most out of all the other cookies and I have loved her even when the whole fandom diss on her to the point that they actually got dissappointed when they got her in the gacha.

Obviously, this problem started from the beginning where they shipped Dark Cacao with Mystic Flour but imagine my heartbreak when the so-called fans supported Eternal Sugar's obsession with Hollyberry and made it a "canon ship".

By doing this, they are excusing all the manipulation and gaslighting and deliberate harm that she had caused to Hollyberry and those whom she loved. They are excusing this CLEAR SIGN OF ABUSE!!!!

It doesn't help that the Official English account for CRK put Hollyberry and Eternal Sugar onto their "Happy Pride" post. Why is this community so hell bent on shipping the victims with their abuser?? What is going on???

Why are people okay with this???

#cookie run kingdom #Alira's long as fuck essays #Also NO I'm not saying fiction doesn't sometimes affect/hurt reality #That's not relevant to the damn point I'm making and I Will eat your shoelaces if that gets flung at me #Also couldn't fit a point about it but fiction often romanticizes and exaggerates things cause it's fiction and not irl so there's that too #I'm fucking tired and need to sleep for the love of god I spent an hour writing this and it's five am

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lunavagans · 5 months ago

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I have become obsessed both with the Glass Animals‘ ZABA and Disco Elysium and I can basically feel it re-routing my synapses. Will probably yield interesting fanart.

#glass animals #zaba #disco elysium #lunavagans #rl lunavagans posts #like. not for these two things just for my main fandom #I‘m Sure This Won‘t Influence My Creating In ANY Way #like. my brain feels like its swaying with the music #and for once the bass doesnt bother me #apparently theres some discourse about their newest album being generic #and like im not a ga fan in general #its ONLY zaba no idea wht the rest is and no intent to find out #just for clarification in case I attract naysayers

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quibbs126 · 1 month ago

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You know honestly, you really have to appreciate all that goes into a Cookie Run design

They need to pick a food/ingredient to base the character off of, and then they have to find some association with either the food itself or something similar to it that they can draw parallels with, or inversely they need to find a food that matches the theme they’re going with. Then they have to find ways to incorporate the food into the actual design itself, as well as find some theme or culture to base their designs off of

Like for a random example, S’more Cookie and Cannoli Cookie. The theme of their update was camping, and s’mores are a typical camping food, and cannoli, while I don’t think it has an association with camping, looks a bit like a sleeping bag, which are essential camping gear

Or the Upper City Creme Republic Cookies, who generally all seem to be flavors with either fancy sounding European names, or something associated with a European country, like clotted cream or custard with England (I think), which ties into how, let’s face it, that Upper City colonized this region, and Europe (but mostly Western Europe) having a pretty notable history of colonization. And even the native Council members, Captain Caviar and Oyster, fit in with the upper class feel, with caviar being seen as a fancy food, and oysters, while I’m not sure the food connotations, are associated with pearls, a fancy gem

Or how Burning Spice and his forces are based on various spices, and they have an Indian inspiration due to India being pretty well known for their spices. Or Peach and Peach Blossom having Chinese inspiration due to the significance of peaches in Chinese mythology, as well as Peach taking inspiration from Sun Wukong, a prominent Chinese figure and someone who ate a bunch of peaches of immortality

And sometimes the ingredient doesn’t tie into the cultural/aesthetic inspiration for the character, like how European cheese seems to only have loose connection to Egypt, but they’ll still take care to make the inspirations clear, they’re not just generic, at least nowadays. I think, I might have been a bit unclear here

The characters may not all be a 100% unity between flavor and cultural inspiration, like Clotted Cream pretty much looks like a normal guy outside of his hair looking a little bit like cream, but it does work a lot of the time, and there’s still at least all that care going into the designs themselves

#I don’t know it’s just a thought that’s been going through my head recently #I think I find myself missing this now during my tryst in the Transformers fandom #considering these are alien robots that don’t wear clothes or have hair #their designs are supposed to relate to their vehicle forms more than any human culture #which you know makes sense that’s their whole thing #and there are some with more human inspirations like Windblade #but from what I understand Transformers doesn’t usually have more than a little light cultural inspiration #and when I go and check in on Cookie Run and do some runs with characters I find myself missing it #Transformers isn’t exposing me to nearly as much human culture #whether it be food or the designs #not to say Cookie Run is some dedication to all the world’s culture no not at all #and I think a good portion of this has only been within the past few years or so like since Kingdom #but you know I appreciate it and I miss it now in Transformers #maybe that’s why I’m appreciating it more now #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ovenbreak #the other two have this too but these are the main two I’m focusing on #since you know they’re bigger and older #character design

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year ago

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Could you explain your position on Shallura? Since Allura was established as a teenager when she started dating Lance and Shiro was very clearly an adult. I can understand the bi shiro headcannon but the shallura thing worries me

i am going to remind yall that i have been in this fandom since 2016. and in the early seasons, allura was not established as a teenager. in fact she was coded as older, as closer to shiro's age -- there was a specific divide between her and the younger paladins that she did not have with shiro. they made her younger (both explicitly and in mannerisms) as the show went on. and i do not give a fuck about voltron like...post s4 and i didn't even watch s7-8. so like. especially with older fics, im going to enjoy shallura.

#also this is less relevant and i was going to put it in the main post but i cant find the words for it #but i found your last sentence kind of condescending. “the shallura thing worries me” as if i am your little project and things arent going #to plan. as if you are the Knower Of All Things and i am straying from my path lol. twas odd #and this is a controversial thing to say i know it but like #we take fandom way too seriously. if someone decides in fic to make two characters the same age to ship them or whatever. do we really need #to get the torches and pitchforks. like i can understand discomfort when people ship like shiro and pidge or something but. also. i feel #like you can just block and move on?? like i dont ship sheith bc they are brothers. to me. but also i dont think sheithers should be #harassed or any dumb shit like that. i think its so so whatever like theyre Lines man theyre moving lines #at the same time i understand that peoples headcanons can be reflective of their worldviews (like when racism/transphobia/sexism shine #through someone's headcanons/characterization) but how much scrutiny is too much? when do we get to remember that fandom is a place to #work with the FICTIONAL? where you can change details without consequence? i saw a fic where keith was the older sibling and shiro was the #younger once. it was a good fic. how come we can play with ages but only when the Fandom Council approves?#i guess this is a really long and clumsy way to say like. you do not own the fandom nor do you get to dictate my work. and while there #is always room for necessary criticism please also think critically before you post your criticism #anyways #rant #ask

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riacte · 4 months ago

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being a fan of false/ren/both atm is kinda weird and surreal in these times because you have to carefully tread around in your mind to avoid thinking about upsetting things (which consist of like 50% of the total stuff in your head) and you have to rewire your longtime neural pathways but it’s necessary and doable lol

#the friend group.#took a look at my drafts on main and the stuff i had painstakingly saved/ written… idk what to do with it so im just not doing anything #every time i see someone go ‘oh those two didn’t really interact with anyone else im on the server’ im sitting here with gritted teeth.#but no surprises people never gave a shit #it feels weird. esp as a false watcher.#like to explain to the hermitcraft fans it’s like what happened to the sbi fans when wilbur came out as a piece of shit. but less severe.#i do think a lot of people stopped giving a shit about iskall after hc6 so they automatically ignored everything he did #i think it’s actually insane because as a false/ren/both viewer you can’t just fucking pretend things never happened #it’s been one year since hc10 started 🙂 and things have changed 🙂#there’s no way people have forgotten HOW hc10 started and all the. stuff. that i now don’t look at.#i am fine i am either diassociating or narrowing my scope but it’s still ??????#anywayssss this was prob make lifeseriesifcation worse and false is the only non lifer hermit woman yayyyyy this can’t go wrong yayyy #i do think it’s nice that we don’t know what ren thinks about this like yesss none of our business #can’t wait for more ignorance from the fandom yippee #iskall situation #discourse #salt #ria.txt #ppl celebrating hc10 woohoo new hermits yeah and im over here trying not to think about it. i am not thinking about 90% of it.

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applestorms · 9 months ago

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actually. @moonlarked you wanted someone to talk about near & light as parallels? cuz uh...

ok SO, my big hot take on near is something like this: one of the most common criticisms i see about near is that he is simply too apathetic/bored/uncaring/etc, and that because he is not as emotionally invested as L, his win against light doesn't feel nearly (lol) as satisfying as it could've been. this is a view that often frustrates me, but for a very particular reason— namely, while i think it is somewhat accurate in content, i think it misses a lot of important context (and also misses a lot of the importance of light's character arc, but we'll get to that much later).

one of the most important things to remember about the wammy's kids is that, whether they like it or not, each and every one of them is defined almost entirely through their relationship to L. this is perhaps more obvious in the case of characters like BB and mello, who are very Aware of this shadow being cast upon them and react in very overt, emotional ways (e.g. becoming a literal serial killer out of seemingly pure spite & desire to be noticed, idolizing him but in a very emotionally complicated, kinda detached sorta way, etc), but it is true for Every wammy's kid, purely because of how the house itself functions. these kids are being raised to be L's successor— the greatest (and second greatest, and third greatest) detective on the planet. this is the ultimate goal hanging over every one of their heads, and it places a constant pressure on every kid there.

oftentimes, i think (perhaps both out of story and in it, as well?) people get so caught up in comparing near to L that they forget he also falls under this umbrella— only, for near, his position is slightly different because he actually somewhat succeeds at the task? like, yeah, L never gets the chance to officially call near his successor, but between the fact that he's constantly called the #1 kid at wammy's and that he. literally does actually end up becoming the new L after kira, i think it's always been pretty clear what his path was going to be.

going back to my starting point, this is one of the main ways that near makes a really good parallel to light in my mind, specifically the light that we see right at the start of the series. in both cases, near and pre-DN light, we see a kid who has succeeded at everything they've been handed, and more notably, we see a kid who is bored out of his fucking mind looking at the prospects of what he's got.

in the case of light, this is maybe a little more realistic/easy to understand— light does well in academics, he does well in sports, he does well with people. he is likely to follow in his father's footsteps with something criminal justice/police/law related, but even if he diverges from that path it likely won't be too big of a deal, as he has shown himself to be capable in enough areas that he's likely to succeed no matter what. by all measurable standards, light's doing pretty good at the start of the series. and yet— there is something so distinctly and inherently Bland about his life before he gets the DN. i've said before that light wouldn't call the DN a curse even if he wanted to, but i think in that moment when he's telling ryuk he disagrees w/ his father after visiting him in the hospital, when he says, "I've never once considered finding that notebook and gaining this power a misfortune. In fact, it's made me happier than I've ever been." (ch.22) he's still getting at something real and truthful.

again, going back to my equating of boredom with depression in this series— light's life is pretty good by all measurable standards. he has a family who loves him, presumably more than enough money to get by with a pretty cushy lifestyle, and does well, honestly better than well, in every single system he is presented with. but even so, he's still unhappy. there is something in his soul that has not yet been satisfied. he's bored of the world, bored of his place in it, how easy it all is. what the DN really offers him is a challenge, entertainment— just the same as L, and just the same as ryuk.

near similarly suffers from this kind of boredom, though it is perhaps less overtly stated than in the case of light, L, and ryuk, and less easy to catch as it is not as realistic/common. again: near basically ends up the winner of wammy's house. he is the one to take the title of L, he's declared the smartest, bestest kid at wammy's, and he gets all the power and privilege that comes with such a title. but still— he's so. fucking. bored. much to the embarrassment of mello, this shit was never really a challenge to him. it's pretty obvious that near isn't really even all that attached to the title of L— don't forget that his first real introduction to the story involves him explicitly saying that he'd be just fine working with mello as essentially co-L successors. and this is a viewpoint that he holds onto until the very end of the series, actually, claiming that he was only able to best light due to mello's sacrifice. near doesn't really give a fuck about the rat race he's been slotted into, though it's perhaps for that exact reason that he ends up winning it anyway, and getting all the responsibility that comes along.

that being said, i think there are still two main differences between light and near:

light fucks up.

near never gets past his boredom.

in the case of this first point, i do not mean to say that near never ever makes any move/judgement that could be considered a mistake— mello killing the entire SPK is the first thing that comes to mind, which i see as blood on near's hands for the same reason that L takes at least some responsibility for lind l. tailor. rather, i mean that near never makes a such a monumental fuck-up that he has to overturn his entire worldview just to account for it in the same way that light does when he accidentally kills two people w/ the DN the first time.

it's like, if you've ever known (or been) the kind of kid who always got perfect grades in school, straights A's for K-12, only to reach college and suddenly bomb their first test and have an existential crisis as their only real achievement in life is crushed into dust, then you know light yagami. only for light, it's on a whole 'nother scale, because not only does he fucking oopsie daisy kill two people, but he kills in such a context that he can mentally manipulate it back into seeming heroic. i hate to say that suffering causes character development because that's terrible advice (it's how you react to terrible circumstances that matters, imho) but to some degree, yeah, having conflicts/hard times in life is just necessary to figure shit out sometimes. near (and L, oh goddd i need to write about L properly sometime) has so many things smoothed over and handed to him, and on top of that, he's a super genius very rarely fucks anything up, at least according to base logic. he doesn't even really consider the morality of anything he's doing until light straight up asks him in a desperate bid to keep talking at the end, it's all just logic and factors to consider.

this all leads to my second point, which is that near never really gets the chance to overcome his boredom in the same way as the others. ryuk at least gets his entertainment for a couple years, and light and L (and mello) get so invested in each other and their game that it literally kills them, but near just kinda. keeps going. he keeps being L, he keeps solving cases, he does the duty he was given and enjoys his toys... and that's it. he lies around, the only one left to live, never even taking credit for the end of KIRA, never gets another haircut, and keeps the title going. what a life, for a kid who dragged a god back down to earth.

sidenote1: toys

am i reading too into things? maybe. near's toys hold a lot of significance throughout the story in more specific ways, most notably the finger puppets he uses at the very end of the story while tracking different people's/kira's actions, though you could probably read some kind of meaning into every toy he has and the ways in which he plays with them. what i want to look at here though is more the general reasoning behind playing with them in the first place— a desire for a childhood he didn't get to have? a love of games more generally? (could track with him seeing the KIRA case, or really all detective work, as just another game.) you could also read into his toys as another source for near's apathy/detachment from reality, literally breaking every notable person around him down into a doll by the end of the story, speaking a lot to how alienated he is from the world (again, very similar to both L and light, there). i don't have much more of a point to make here, just wanted to add this in somewhere since it's one of his most striking visual character traits.

sidenote2: light's arc

going back to my point at the start of this post... light's character arc.

uhh. near winning is a good thing, actually. and i don't just mean that as a moral claim— DN itself as a story isn't really concerned with trying to answer any moral questions about good or evil or the justice system, so it makes sense & is fair to me that it doesn't try all that hard to answer anything along those lines by the very end of the story. what i mean to say here is that near winning is a good thing on the level of the character arc, specifically as an end to light's arc.

i made a post a while back while mid-manga reread talking through some of the reasons why L's death can feel kind of unsatisfying/paint the second half of the story in a less interesting light (hah) for a lot of viewers, with the main point i ended up on being that L wasn't really able to win because he never really had all that clear of a win state in the first place. i still kiiind of agree with this point, though i think there's a lot more i could add to that post... anyways. point is, i bring up that post because it touches on a similar thing to what i want to talk about here: light's character arc being a tragedy.

this is more speculation on my part, but i think another part of the reason why people get turned off to DN post-L death is not just the fact that L isn't really a playable character in the game anymore, but the fact that light's character arc takes such a dramatic twist after the timeskip. i talked about this a little bit in my little ramble on light & titles (which a lot of you liked, apparently!! ty for all the lovely comments on there, i love reading what you guys have to say ^w^), but light's character arc in DN is a tragedy to me, full-stop.

tragedies to me are cyclical— revolutionary, if you will. since all stories necessitate some kind of something to take place, a tragedy to me is all about a character beginning in one point, then continually getting hit by Event, after Thing, after Event, only to end up in essentially the exact same place that they started. any character changes or development that seem to happen throughout the story are ultimately nullified by the end— the main subject does not truly grow, does not truly reflect on their actions or traumas, does not move on. two steps forward is two steps back. even ending up in a position worse than they started is sometimes better than a true tragedy, in my mind, as at least then there is some chance they may still reflect or change or grow in the future, leaving the hope that they may still overcome this new circumstance later on. a true tragedy ends in nothing meaningful ever getting the chance to truly change, at least in the case of the main subject of the story.

light's character arc in the first half of the story is an upward, underdog kind of story. yes, light has the power of a shinigami, of a supernatural force that the rest of the world doesn't even know exists— but part of the real appeal of his conflict with L is how powerful L feels in comparison, having the wealth and respect and title to command a world's worth of forces against him. fuck, even taking down naomi misora feels like an incredible hurdle overcome, a teenager managing to charm and yap and flutter his eyelashes out of a shitty situation he was only just lucky enough to stumble across in the first place, to stop someone who could've ruined his entire plan with a few words. killing L was always going to be light's greatest accomplishment when it comes to his rise to godhood, not only because of L's great power but the comparative position of light at the time that he did so— not yet an adult, not even really out of school, perhaps barely out of his parents' house.

in contrast, light's arc for the second half of the story is a downward spiral. we see all of the consequences light has been miraculously avoiding smack into him like meteors in this half, his ever-growing ego torn to shreds as he's yanked back down to earth. and in comparison to the anime, the manga really beats this point into you, dedicating the entire second half of the story to light's fall from grace as he loses his mind and loses his humanity. like, while i do kind of prefer the manga ending to the anime, i have to admit that light's death there is fucking brutal. light goes through pages, chapters, purely dedicated to near tearing him a new asshole, only end the story bloody and delirious and crawling on his knees begging a god of death to fix everything— all just to die the exact same death as everyone else he's killed. i mean, look at these fucking pages (ch.107):

(that last fucking picture of him. clawing at the sky. it always fucking gets to me.)

it hurts to read this shit!! we spend the entire first half of the story watching this dude's rise to glory, the entire time stuck inside of his head, emotionally connecting with him even if we don't really mean to or disagree with his actions or question his morality. watching his fall back down, especially after all of that, is fucking painful— an in no way does near make the process any easier. if anything, his blunt, snarky bitchery, saying all the quiet parts out loud, calling light out for being a terrible replacement L and pointing and laughing at his failures to his face, only shoves more salt in the wound, only proves just how human he has been all this time, how meaningless any of his supposed "rise to power" ever really was. light got his fifteen seconds of fame, sure— but near is armed and ready to make sure that's all he'd ever get, that the name Light Yagami would never even be associated with the position he held for so long. six years was all he got— and it was all he was ever going to get, because light yagami did not do this for humanity, he did it for himself. all near did was collect the debt that L prescribed. he fulfilled his duty as told— nothing more, and nothing less.

i just have to wonder... is this why people hate him? because he has no sympathy for the fall? maybe. i don't know.

either way, i don't think i could ever really hate him. it's a big responsibility, being the only one left behind. but near has always been the one to hold such weights on his shoulders.

#death note #astronaut rambles #back at it again w/ the literal shower thoughts everyone #trying to get out as much DN writing as i can before classes start and take over everything aksdjflks #i think near is definitely in my top 3 DN characters oops i love him #btw i haven't seen a lot of the extra manga n stuff (?) related to wammy's so this is mostly just based off of the main manga #certified YAPPER applestorms here sorry L i like to win too #it's my homestuck roots i can't help it #also couldn't fit this in but... i like near's main color being white #it really fits the emptiness/void/apathy thing but in a different way #like it's not MU. it's not two fully black pages. but there's not a lot there either #not much room to be a person when you're built to be a computer ig #sighhh. these boys and their humanity #prospectively classpecting near as an heir of void. btw.#also sympathy for the fall would make a fuckin great band name #man i love writing these things. spinning my boys in my head #the DN fandom has been great on here lately love reading everyone's posts & seeing all the art hehehe <3 #super long post #long post

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