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sanchoyo · 3 years

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danny phantom episode 4-7 Thoughts: (under a readmore because, these got kinda long!)

-the outfit danny had to buy for dash's party. CLASSIC 2000S i cannot stop laughing. And also showing up to the party and everyone is dressed like the trio is hilarious. and further proof that everyone looks good dressed goth.

-dash has a closet full of cute lil bear plushies?? LOVE that. adorable. also his response to danny trashing his room fighting a ghost was SO valid if somone BROKE MY BED IN HALF ID BE PISSED TOO.

-technus being like 'oh smart, u should be a tutor!' then later being like 'forget tutor, be a teacher!' :) supportive king <3 I also really like his upgraded suit/design. AND SPOCK CAMEO??? HELLO??

-the music in this show is super. its so funky. I looked it up and the guy who does it, guy moon (awesome name) also did music for other cartoons like fairly odd parents, barnyard, chalkzone, billy & mandy, AND some actual movies like FIGHT CLUB??? the whiplash I got from reading that)

-sam being rich explains a lot about her, actually.

-I know the moral of the episode was supposed to be 'dont ditch your friends for popular people/spend a lot of money on clothes that arent You to Fit In'. but tbh. it wouldve been easy for danny to have been like 'well, okay, ill come but only if my friends can!' but I get. that hes 14. so. not a lot to say there.

-BOX GHOST IS BACK!!!!! also, danny sitting up and wearing the dress/wig/makeup. umm thats how I dress everyday LMFAO. unironically me. (hate the jokes that boil down to 'haha funney man in dress' tho. but this is a look)

-jazz being protective of her brother once again being like NOOO YOU GUYS BETTER NOT STAKE OUT HIS (actually haunted) LOCKER!! shes aware of how people perceive him and she wants to help :( which is also probably why she told dash to invite him to that party even tho she had no interest in going!! she wants to help him out :(

-gotta say im with tucker on the whole 'should danny use his powers to get back at bullies' debate. 100% yes. let him teach kids to fight back. making dash throw his food at paulina out of the blue? no. but when hes actually about to pick on someone? yeah! for self defense? YEAH! if dash and his friends just threw food at him, I think rather than. idk doing sneaky shit with frogs he couldve just threw it back and not pulled punches if they tried to fight. I kNOOWWW its a kids show so they are like 'if u fight back ur just as bad!! violence bad!!' but. theyre HIS POWERS. WHO CARES.

-like my only gripe is that dash really isnt LEARNING ANYTHING WHEN DANNY GETS BACK AT HIM IN THE MOST PETTY INDIRECT WAYS. whatever they had to add a bully psa episode I guess. I hate it and I hate the way cartoons usually handle it because these methods simply Do Not Work. 'aND YouRE USinG YOur poWErs FOR EVill???!' this is Not Evil. even when poindexter takes dannys body, theyre only being 'nice' bc hes stealing soda for them!! bitches deserve what they get (nothing too brutal bc theyre high schoolers but damn, if they pick on danny he doesnt need to be the 'bigger person' he needs to start biting people)

-SAM TRYING TO SMUGGLE FROGS OUT OF THE BIO LAB?? girl in middle school when we had to dissect frogs we could opt out, also, they came to us already dead and preserved...

-sidney's lingo and the fact hes in black and white is sending me. also, danny is a ghost celebrity apparently for being a halfa?? ok. thats interesting to know

-the DENTIST BEING EXCITED ABOUT THE COTTON CANDY FLOOD IS THE FUNNIEST THING SO FAR.

-I LOOOVE the trope of 'wishes gone wrong'. not crazy about the stereotypical genie, or the use of the dreamcatcher looking design. (also, I KNOW theyre scientists but the way theyre handling a cold...are the fentons ANTIVAX)

-the genie. she. whitewished paulina. JKASDFHKJ. (the ghost literally just being hello kitty???? im dying) 'why do i feel that im special and wonderful? because I AM! <3' paulina ilu self worth queen. felt bad for her also getting possessed by (2) boys later who were arguing INSIDE HER. WTF.

-imagine being the guy trapped in his now flying car. he thought danny and tucker were HALUCINATIONS. imagine being trapped in a flying car with two, what you think are imaginary arguing 14 year olds convinced ur gonna die. i WOULD say this dude is gonna need so much therapy, but he seemed totally fine and excited when they landed (I would be happy too if a chicken was on my head. chickens rule) stoner rights

-sam's bat slippers??? iconic. SO cute.

-I think desiree's backstory is so :( do all ghosts have messed up sad backstories?? poindexter's was sad too...cannot imagine box ghost has any kind of fucked up backstory. but what if. his mom got pushed off cliffs by boxes...........a la cruella... anyway her 'no man may lay a hand on me' iconic. ilu

-I know danny has no concept of how much bras cost but my god dont attack tucker with some girls bra. those are so expensive.

-its really. well its not a GOOD THING he went into the portal and got fucked up, but its good danny was the one to do it rather than sam or tucker. because even tho he was being influenced by desiree and kept getting more malicious and it prob wasnt 100% him...he sucked as a ghost like most the people he 'pranked' were innocent ppl just Chillin and he didnt want to help anyone at all. I think danny is the most responsible out of them but also, hes 14 and shouldnt HAVE to feel obligated to fight every ghost. hes a good kid and wants to, but I also feel like he feels like...responsible for the portal turning on?? because his parents did give it up,, but it was an accident and not his fault (if anything, why was the on switch on the inside. why was it that easy. why was there no safety measures. that seems like smth OSHA needs to hear about). like thats my son. hes a good boy. and hes never done anything wrong in his life, ever. if anyone hurts him im killing everyone in this room and then myself. etc.

-danny's curfew is 10PM????? DUDE. when I was 14...shit I couldn't be out that late, I had to be back at like, 8 at the latest, and my parents had to know exactly where and who I was going with, AND i had to call/text them regularly...is this a case of my parents being overbearing, or the fentons sucking??? the only time i could EVER be out that late was if I was at an overnight sleepover or smth...

-the vultures have lil fezes. why do they have fezes...theyre so fuckin funny 'ask him for directions' 'I KNOW WHERE IM GOING' these ghost vultures are my new grandpas. pick them up, put them in the adopt box.

-'I wonder why those guys were trying to waste dad!' THEYRE GHOSTS. YOUR DAD HUNTS GHOSTS. why is that not a conclusion you'd immediately jump to??

-*jazz voice, clearly disgusted* WISCONSIN???

-mrs fenton with the lab coat and leg warmers and PERM. YESSS STYLISH.

-was going to say 'ew billionaire' @vlad but. super valid he used his powers to assumedly steal and cheat to get that money, thats how all billionaires do it! but ew hes a SIMP. and spending your billions on FOOTBALL STUFF?? you are Not Valid overall. I DO respect the fact you have a castle instead of a mansion. in wisconsin. if youre going to be stupidly rich might as well go all out, torches on the wall and all. I DO like his ghost form's little kitty ears. catman. and his cape! every design can benefit from a cape. and how different his forms look, like danny looks the EXACT SAME IN BOTH FORMS ASIDE FROM COLOR CHANGES. vlad's is like,, I could believe they were different people!! also I love the drama. but dude you are fighting a 14 year old. lame. also he was like, telling danny he wanted his mom and him and like, wanted him to renounce his dad?? WHAT ABOUT JAZZ?? bitch. those r MY kids and they are both important and special. I do agree they need better parents but thats not u sir <3

-I thought vlad's 'little badger' nickname for danny came from the football mascot of the packers, but google says they have NO MASCOT?? so now I'm like?? is it because his hair is sometimes black and sometimes white?? I hate to give him props but thats a PERFECT NICKNAME. theyre also tiny and vicious!

-why did I get so excited that Skulker is back!! its been like. 2-3 eps LMAO. AND THE DAIRY KING. ICONIC I LOVE HIM. hes the nicest guy ever :) more nice ghosts please. danny cannot be fighting alone everytime with no ghost buds like every ghost being hostile sucks :(

-mr. fenton knew vlad was controlling him, but a few episodes ago he had no clue danny was doing the same thing...is it something about how malicious the ghost is?? he just seemed to think his memory had gaps the first time, this time he was INSTANTLY LIKE 'GHOST'. then again in this ep when danny did it again he was just slightly confused but not immediately freaking out like he did with vlad possessing him!!

-'my parents will accept ME NO MATTER WHAT' so. so why haven't you come out to them yet, danny?? if you really think that?? if theres no harm, and you're sure??? if vlad is a real problem, wouldnt that make dealing with him easier, to expose him???? SO WHY HAVENT YOU COME OUT YET?? COULD IT BE,, MAYBE YOU HAVE DOUBTS ABOUT WHETHER YOUR PARENTS ACTUALLY WILL ACCEPT YOU??? 🤔 ... 🏳‍🌈 I get why people say He Is Trans. I totally totally get u danny.

-sorta unrelated, but it just occurred to me in one of these eps they go to casper HIGH not casper middle school??? theyre 14?? dont highschools usually do ages 15-18? (I didnt go to hs so I might be wrong, if I am ignore this...) freshmen are usually 14-15, could just be a case of them not turning 15 yet but they will sometime in the school year (I say they because tucker said he was 14 too)? I know the show has 3 seasons, so by the end of it will they be older? thatd be neat but usually cartoon characters stay the same age...I love shows where you can see the characters age and grow up, though...three seasons seems like a long time to spend on like, 1 year...

#sanchoyorambles #danny phantom #me on the first post:#its not a liveblog!#me this time: it kinda is. but not in the same format as my tmm one #i like doing one post for a handful of eps bc it saves time #and crowds my blog less #and also i just like talking abt what im watching lol #dp thoughts

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beckzorz · 5 years

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A Walk in the Woods (one-shot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Word count: 1809 Summary: You weren’t expecting to run into arms dealers in the woods. Then again, who ever is? A/N: Day 2 of Hello Spring! Prompt for today was “stroll,” so obviously I made it the least relaxing walk you could possibly take... Hope you enjoy :3 Let me know what you think!

Mud squelches under your hiking boots. Rain over the last week has turned your favorite hilly trail on the nearby nature reserve into little more than a series of puddles streaming into each other. Fortunately, your boots are waterproof—or they are now, after that incident in March—and the gray and wet means that everyone else has taken their boots and dogs to drier climes. You, on the other hand, have no dog.

It’s just you and the woods.

You’ve already seen a wild turkey, a few frogs in the rain-ponds flooding the trail, and a young tree with buds that look like the carnivorous plant from Little Shop of Horrors. The only other human you’d seen was a photographer on the other side of an actual lake, camera aimed into the trees in search of birds.

A mile on from there, and it’s wonderfully quiet. There’s something restful about being alone in the woods, considering how congested it is where you live and how much your work weighs on you. The drive here was well worth it.

You pause at the top of an incline to catch your breath and take in the view behind you. The trees are just starting to bloom; little green shoots litter the ground, poking up between fallen pine needles and dry brown leaves from last fall and beyond.

A bang echoes through woods.

You whirl, heart racing, but all you can see is the woods. The chirping birds have gone silent, and all you can hear is the light rustle of the trees and your own frightened breathing.

“Hello?” you call.

Immediately you snap your hand in frustration. That might have been a tree falling, but it might have been a gunshot. And you’re totally unarmed. Why did you broadcast your location? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

You wait there for a minute until your pulse slows back down and your breathing is back to normal.

“Everything’s fine,” you mutter to yourself as you head on. “Everything’s f—”

CRACK.

You drop into a crouch, eyes so wide you can feel the air rushing by in your wake. Or—maybe not your own wake. A thin tree a few feet off the path creaks, splinters, and then a branch falls to the ground, almost in slow motion. It lands with a wet thump.

What the hell?

Your hands are shaking. Unarmed? Well, not entirely. You pull your keys out of your pocket and arrange them between your clenched fingers before inching forward, still crouched. The path is still empty, still silent, and then you hear it.

Crunch. Crunch. Squelch.

Footsteps, coming up from the next bend. Skin prickling, you look around wildly for a place to hide.

But too late. A man appears barely twenty feet away, face lighting up with dark glee as he claps eyes on you.

“There you are.”

You pop to your feet and run back down the path, blood rushing in your ears. The leaves and rocks underfoot are slippery; you slip, catch yourself on your hand, push yourself back up and fly down the path. Over your echoing heartbeat, you can hear the man following you, running faster than you—oh god—

You chance a look back, eyes stinging, and then you knock clean into—you don’t know; all you know is that you’re on your back in the mud, head spinning, groaning, wetness seeping through your jeans.

Two men, one the man from the hilltop and the other a stranger with a beard, hover into your spotty vision.

“Who—” you croak, then think better of it. You turn your hand to conceal your keys, your only weapon. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Well, you should’ve taken the hint and stayed away,” the man from the hill says. He holds up his gun, aims it casually at you. “Why are you here?”

“I—I like it here!” you whimper. You curl your empty hand around your churning stomach. You’ve never seen a gun so close, not from this angle at least. From here, with your eyes slightly crossed, you can see straight up the barrel. “I like the quiet! It’s quiet!”

The bearded man snorts. For the first time, you give him a good look. There’s a light splatter of blood across his coat.

“Oh god,” you breathe. You look back up the barrel of the gun. It’s shaking. No, you’re shaking.

The man from the hill cocks his gun. He studies your drained face.

“A shame, really,” the man says mildly.

Crack.

You squeeze your eyes shut, but all that happens is a whoosh of air and an oof from the man standing over you.

“Fuck!” Beardie spins, pulling out his own gun, and your eyes widen as the other man falls to his knees and then face-down beside you in the dirt.

Crack.

Beardie stumbles back. He holds up his gun, fires twice, three times.

Crack.

Beardie falls, twisting; you can see the bullet hole in his cheek, his empty eyes, and it’s enough to make your head spin.

You push yourself back along the ground, muddy water catching in every fold of your jeans, sliding into your boots, matting your hair. The man from the hill groans. He forces himself off the ground, onto his hands and knees. His gun is between you, and his eyes flit to yours before he lurches, reaching for the gun.

Adrenaline courses through your veins. You slam into him with a snarl, knocking him back onto the ground before the gun’s within his reach. The air is cold against the backs of your wet legs now that they’re not buried in the mud, but you barely notice. All that matters is keeping the gun away from his hands. Whatever had shot at these two, whoever—you prayed they wouldn’t shoot at you.

You draw back your hand with the keys and jab them into the man’s gut. He grunts, his breath heavy on your face. The mud squelches beneath you as you straddle him, knees digging into his leg, his gut, your empty hand clamped on his jaw, cold fingers digging into his skin.

“Hey!”

You ignore the call from behind. You can’t let go. If you let go—

Someone yanks you away by the shoulders, and you scream.

“Let me go!”

You slam your keyed fist behind you. Your knuckles jab into someone’s face, and you’re dropped to the ground.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!”

“Oh shit—hey, wait!”

You land heavily on your knees, and in half a moment you’re running back up the hill, eyes streaming, boots catching just long enough to propel you further on. The birds are singing again, you realize, and then someone catches you around the middle. You wriggle violently in their hold.

“Hey, hey, calm down, it’s okay, we’re not gonna hurt ya!”

The man holding you sets you down and steps back quickly, a hand still clamped around your wrist. You whirl to face him, teeth bared in a snarl.

The second you can see his face, your mouth drops open. Your keys drop to the ground.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” you gasp.

The Winter Soldier snorts. Behind him, Sam Wilson—Captain Fucking America!—stands up from where he’d been kneeling by the man from the hill, whose arms are now tied behind his back.

“Are you okay?” Bucky Barnes asks. He lets go of you, holding his hands open for a moment to placate any terror lingering in your system. His eyes trail down and back up, settling on your face. “They didn’t shoot you or anything?”

You shake your head, cheeks warming up under his scrutiny. Mud, tears, and who knows what else are smeared all over you, and you’ve got the two cutest Avengers looking you over.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you ask.

Sam’s mouth screws up. “Why don’t we start with why you’re here.”

“Uh, to go for a walk?” You look between the two men, but Sam’s suspicious expression doesn’t change. You swallow.

“Oh, c’mon, Wilson,” Bucky mutters. He raises his eyebrows at you as he gathers your keys from the mud and hands them to you. Yuck. “So you weren’t here to facilitate an alien arms deal?”

“What? No! Aliens? What, are they back?” You glance behind you, a hand clutched by your throat; you hadn’t been present for any of the alien attacks, but god, you’d seen enough up-close-and-personal video footage to have a instinctive terrified reaction.

Bucky snorts. “No. Hell no. Just some tech fallen into the wrong hands.”

“Well thanks for the fucking heart attack,” you snap. You rub your temples, shake your head. Your head is starting to pound. “Look, this has been great fun, but I would just really like to get home now.”

Bucky purses his lips at Sam, who sighs. “One of us has to stay til the feds get here.”

“Dude, you’re on point. I’ll volunteer if you really need me to.”

“Fine, sure.”

“Great. You ready?” Bucky asks you. “Which way?”

You give up on trying to wipe your clothes clean—forget the clothes, there’s no way your whole body won’t be a prune by the time you get home—and nod in the direction you’d come from. “Thanks so much, uh, what do I even call you?”

“Bucky works.” He falls into step beside you. “What do I call you?”

You give him your name, and he falters to a halt, his boots squeaking in a puddle.

Your lips twitch as you turn to look over your shoulder at him. “Sorry,” you tell him. “I probably coulda mentioned.”

“Yeah, well.” He hurries back to your side, but he doesn’t start walking. He just looks you up and down, surprise and sudden interest in every line of his face. “Didn’t think I’d be dragging a SHIELD legend out of the mud.”

“Well, to be fair, I wasn’t in the mud anymore.” You link your hands behind your back and keep walking, a smile playing on your lips. You were never in the field like the Avengers, thus the embarrassment of being caught in the mud—not to mention the gun to your face, yikes—but what you do do… Well, it’s worth every ounce of admiration on Bucky Barnes’ face.

“Can I, uh, get you coffee or something?” Bucky asks.

“That’s very sweet, but I think I need a shower more than caffeine right now.”

“I could get you a shower too.”

You pause, raise an eyebrow at him. He blinks, opens his mouth, and puts his fist to his mouth. You can’t help but giggle at his blush. He’s cute, adorable, gorgeous. You surreptitiously eye him up and down. Supersoldier? You’ll say.

What the hell.

“If you’re seriously offering after all that flailing around in the mud, gun to my face, I’ll go for whichever you prefer.”

His face lights up with a smile. Even with all the birds, the trees—it’s the prettiest thing you’ve seen all day. Maybe your whole life.

“Deal.”

#ibw: hello spring 2019 #ibwhellospringday2 #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier imagine #becca writes

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curatedjournal-blog · 6 years

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World Mental Health Day - Some thoughts for students

So, likelihood is you’ve seen these before or they don’t matter/apply to you BUT in the off chance that you may need to hear it today, tomorrow, yesterday or 5 years from now let me tell you a few things about self-care and dealing with ill mental health not just as a student but as a human being.

DISCLAIMER/WARNING: I have been on and off depression and anxiety meds for the past 5+ years, have been through counselling, CBT, you name it. Also, some of this may be TRIGGERING so please be kind to yourself and stop/don’t start reading it if it feels wrong or painful. Also, these are as much for me as they are for others so there’s that...

1. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Sadly, all around the world, ill mental health is misunderstood, mocked and disregarded by many. Sometimes you may not be able to find support in your family or friends. Often not because they don’t want to support you but because they don’t understand what you are going through. However, there are multitudes of online and offline communities that can help for free and with no strings attached (I don’t want to recommend any service in particular for personal reasons but Google

can be a great friend in these cases. Also, your school/uni often has free psychological support for students).

2. Stress and anxiety are more common among students than you think. The pressure can be awful and it comes from all sides - family, money, professors, yourself. It sucks. Which is why you NEED to...

3. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. Dude, self-care is everywhere these days. In a way, it almost lost it’s meaning! What is it really? Going on a shopping spree? Having a spa day? Exercising? Eating your favourite snack? Watching an episode of your fave show? All of the above? Well...

4. ONE SIZE DOESN’T FIT ALL. For me self-care is not binge watching Netflix as a way to avoid my to-dos, not letting shit accumulate, staying moderately on top of things and not kicking myself in the ass if I don’t. It’s also practicing kundalini yoga as OFTEN as I REMEMBER, journalling WHEN I feel like it, engaging in a hobby for 5 MINS to take my head of things, cooking a healthy meal IF I have time, etc.

5. SELF-CARE DOESN’T HAVE TO COST MONEY. Students are broke, we ain’t got no money (or time) for expensive massages and weekend yoga retreats. There’s so many free stuff that DOES NOT REQUIRE A SUBSCRIPTION which you can engage in to help you relax. Find a free exhibition to visit on a weekend, go to the local library and read a couple of soothing poems, go for a walk in the park (I’m a big believer in FOREST THERAPY). Also, if that’s your thing, youtube has LOTS of free self-care content: yoga classes, guided meditations, tips, soothing music...

6. If you’re STUCK IN A RUT, motivation doesn’t come, you can’t face leaving your bed because you fear something awful will happen well, I’m sorry but I’ll give you some tough love... Motivation won’t come. You have to do the thing even if you don’t feel

like it or are scared to do it. Likelihood is it’s not that big of a deal once you get started so... Take the first step (also, look into BEHAVIOURAL ACTIVATION a tried and true CBT technique).

7. EAT ONE FROG A DAY. You know that awful, anxiety inducing shit task you’ve been post-poning for ages that lingers in the back of your mind, eating at you and your sanity, neuron by neuron? Just get it over with. It won’t get any easier to do so may as well do it now and at least you can tick one off.

8. Frogs come in every size and SMALL WINS ARE IMPORTANT. Maybe your frog is making your bed in the morning or getting up before 7am or doing the dishes. Small victories accumulate and will make you feel accomplished step by step, no matter how small that step is. This can REALLY IMPROVE YOUR MOOD. Also, small frogs can easily become major frogs the more you put them off.

9. If it applies to you, TAKE YOUR MEDS and REMEMBER YOUR REPEAT PRESCRIPTIONS. Many times have I forgotten to take mine or reorder them to then feel like shit and completely useless for a week. What works for me may not work for you but here are my tips anyway - keep a water bottle and your meds by your bed next to your alarm clock/phone so you take them first thing when you wake up. Keep some extra meds in your bag so that IF you forget to take them then you have them with you and can easily get on top of it as soon as you realise.

10. KEEP HYDRATED. Honestly, I get majorly moody if I haven’t been drinking enough and it’s good for you eiter way so, do it!

11. BE ACCOUNTABLE. Find a buddy to help you keep in check (if you don’t have regular medical appointments or therapy sessions). Someone who you can talk to about how things are going or share experiences. Hey, I’m here if you’re desperate for a bud!

12. TRY TO DEVELOP AND KEEP A ROUTINE. Developing new habits takes a lot of effort and time. So it’s gonna be hard and you’ll feel like you want to give up and just hide under your covers (again, I speak from experience). Try and visualise what you’d like your daily routine to be - write it down, monitor it daily and if you fail try again...

13. TOMORROW IS A NEW DAY and a new chance to do things better. Try again and again until you succeed. And don’t beat yourself up everytime things don’t go exactly the way you want them to...

14. FOCUS ON POSITIVES. Remember those small wins? Write them down at the end of the day (or simply go over them in your mind). Keep a gratitude journal - as cliche as it sounds, remembering the good things at the end of a shit day will help you go to bed on a good note. I once heard of a lady who kept a journal where she only wrote positive things - all the negative crap she left out - I think that’s a great idea and something I am eager to try.

15. DECLUTTER FOR 5 MINS EACH DAY. A clean space makes for a clean mind. I always feel more anxious and moody if my space is messy.

16. EMBRACING MINIMALISM CAN HELP. Having lots of things doesn’t equal happiness or peace of mind. Lots of things create clutter and chaos and, in my case, mind clutter and anxiety.... which is why I’m currently actively trying to be more conscious about my possessions and purchases.

17. LEARN TO SAY NO. A lot of students in this community are perfectionists, overachieving, ambitious young people. It’s very easy to be seduced by cool opportunities, collabs, requests, invitations... Think twice before saying yes - can you realistically do what you are agreeing to? Will it contribute to your anxiety? Will it truly be beneficial for you? Be a bit selfish if you have to. It’s okay to focus on your wellbeing.

18. DON’T LET IMPOSTER SYNDROME TAKE THE REIGNS. We’ve all been there: I don’t deserve this, I’m not good enough, everyone else is smarter, I CAN’T DO THIS. Yes you can! Tell that voice to shut up. Say it in front of the mirror everyday: I AM ENOUGH AND I CAN DO THIS.

19. BREAK THINGS DOWN. Instead of writing on your to do list “clean bedroom”, break it down into as small tasks as possible: “pick up clothes from floor”, “change bedding”, “organise books”, “dust surfaces”, “vacuum”, etc.

20. ASK FOR HELP. I end it as I begun it. When it gets too hard, reach out. Whether it’s a close friend or an anonymous support line you don’t have to go through it alone. AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, YOUR LIFE MATTERS.

YOU ARE UNIQUE AND AMAZING AND YOU HAVE SO MUCH TO OFFER.

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jessicatredes · 5 years

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2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14, 16, 18, 20, 24, 28, 34, 42, 55, 60 + shiloh 💕

shiloh - junior deputy w bde

002. Do they do anything to celebrate their birthday? He isn’t much of a birthday person tbh. He went wild on his 21st w his Air Force buds, and almost every other since he joined was spent on a deployment. His go to is to just gets drinks and food w friends! He turned 27 during the events of Hope County and shared a sad beer w Sharky and Hurk.004. Do they prefer being alone or with others? Likes being with others, but group size depends on the situation. Social setting, the more the merrier! Combat or stealth situation, he’d prefer smaller numbers. While in Hope County he rarely traveled with more than one person while performing actual missions.006. What sense do they most rely on? His hearing isn’t that great after the military, so he relies heavily on his eyes. He hates fighting at night/in the dark since it throws him off. 008. What is their favorite fairy tale? He doesn’t necessarily have one, but he likes The Princess and the Frog!010. Do they believe in love at first sight? Nah. He can develop crushes easily, but not love. He loves friends pretty easy, but Shi’s only been romantically in love once or twice, and it crept up on him. 012. What makes your character embarrassed? Public speaking is not his forte. He also got pretty flustered his first week at the Sheriff’s Department since he was used to being one of the most educated in his career field. He gets blushy.014. Detail one secret shame your character feels. Shi knows that he was under Jacob’s conditioning, but he’s incredibly ashamed that he not only killed innocents, but that he was also fed other people killed within the Veteran’s Center. He’s only confessed it to Grace, and while she reassured him it wasn’t his choice, Shiloh still feels at fault. 016. What is their choice of weapon? Boy loves his knives, and got his hands on a KA-BAR in Hope County he doesn’t go anywhere without. He’s comfortable with a wide range of weapons because of his time in the service, and most prefers light machine guns. 018. Your character wakes up to find that war has been declared. What do they do? Depending on his contract, he might get called back into the Air Force, since some have a four year grace period after separation. If he wasn’t, Shi’d send his love and best luck to his old unit. 020. What are their hobbies? He’s into hunting, and used to go on an annual trip while in middle and high school. He also likes hiking, kayaking, and most outdoor activities! Shi’s into soccer and lacrosse, since he played most of his life. 024. What do they consider ugly in others physically? He’s into both dudes and chicks, and while there aren’t any major disqualifiers for ladies, he’s way more particular with dudes. Short, bald, facial hair that isn’t just scruff are all weird to him. 028. What makes them laugh out loud? Shi loves when someone’s trying to tell a joke or a story, and they themselves are laughing so hard they can’t. His buddy Mason from his old unit also always made shitty commentary at commander’s calls and briefings that got him yelled at for laughing more than once. 034. What’s their view of lying? Not a fan, is generally a super honest person. He thinks white lies are okay to a certain degree, but prefers to be blunt and truthful. 042. What is their greatest achievement? Getting through PJ training and earning his beret. His older cousins both tried getting it, but failed out, and Shi graduated damn near top his class. And even though he was beyond proud of himself for earning it, he didn’t feel as bad as he did when he permanently took off the uniform. 055. Is your character an introvert or an extrovert? Extrovert! 060. What is your character’s attitude toward education and learning?Shi thinks education is important, and was in the process of pursuing his Master’s in Biochemistry! He originally was interested in getting a degree in Environmental Science, but realized he was better at and enjoyed biochem more.

#thanks for asking airika!!!! <3 #shiloh is my favorite #myocs*#deputy craven #long post/#i feel annoying making everything military related damn near #but Shi was Ready to spend the rest of his life in #and basically went to hope county fresh out #chuckhansen

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lvnce-mcclain · 5 years

Text

bonded (in your arms)

Chapter Summary:

“I—we. The team, we’re always going to be here for you, Keith. If you let us.”

Lance isn’t sure if it’s just him being hopeful or not but he thinks there’s a little regret there, too. “I know.”

Chapter: 8/?

Word Count: 7.7k

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Read it on AO3

God y'all I can't even begin to describe how grateful I am to @dumbassenergy like. Froggy has been the heart and soul of this chapter and she is such an amazing beta. Just watch me grovel at her feet for how great she is, seriously. She's the reason I've had the motivation to finish this fic at all, and so really this chapter and the rest of the series is just. Dedicated to her okay??? If you like this fic, thank her for keeping me going on it. Love you, frogs <3

And oh my, oh my, oh my, oh my God

I'm so, I'm so, I'm so tired of fighting

Let go, give in, let go and give up

- john legend, surefire

The hangar is quiet. The silence stretches between Hunk and Lance, but the sound of the door sliding shut reverberates in Lance’s head—over and over—a taunting loop playing over the sound of Keith’s anger. Lance can feel his feet go numb from where he’s fallen to his knees. The cold pinpricks crawling up his calves at least provide some sensation, where everything else seems to have been deadened.

Lance doesn’t know how long Hunk lets him stay there, immobile and in a state of complete disbelief. Lance idly thinks way too much time has passed from the way Hunk starts to shift restlessly—the soft shifting of Hunk’s weight from foot to foot, hands rubbing on the fabric of his pants, all too loud in the void of the hangar.

“Come on, man, let’s get you to bed.” Hunk’s voice is soft, but it still jars Lance. His tears have long since dried up; violent sobs turned to dry heaves then finally to nothing at all. It leaves his throat aching and his eyes feeling too tight in his skull. He thinks maybe if he waits here long enough, when he does finally walk out the door, he might be able to walk back in time too.

Hunk gives him a moment—and when Lance can’t gather an answer in his chest and make it leave his mouth, Hunk pulls him up with one arm against his side and hefts Lance to his feet. The pinpricks drift down his calves towards his feet, making it hurt to stand, but Lance follows Hunk’s lead to the dorms anyway.

The hallway seems louder than the hangar. Their steps echo on the metal floor, pressing back in on Lance’s ears; it starts to get to be too much right as they near the dorms. The knotted ball in his chest starts to untangle at the thought of being able to crawl under his covers and hide from the world, giving him the only motivation he can muster to put one foot in front of the other. His mind is focused solely on getting out of the hallway. He feels too vulnerable; the space is too open, anyone could run into them—Keith could—he makes himself stop. The thought of Keith throbs like an ache in his chest and he has to squeeze his eyes shut against the heat pooling behind them again.

There’s a wound in the middle of Lance’s chest, the edges raw and gaping and every drifting thought about Keith causes a fresh tear. The pain is nearly tangible, causing a falter in Lance’s step that makes him pull on Hunk’s hold.

“Hey, dude, we’re almost there, don’t worry—”

“Hey, there you are guys, Allura was—” The sound of Pidge’s voice causes Lance to avert his eyes, something ugly boiling in his stomach at the thought of someone else seeing him like this. “What the hell? I thought no one was hurt? Is he okay? What happened?” There’s a panic rising in their voice. The realization that he must look like absolute shit comes to Lance somewhere deep down. It causes the same boiling feeling from earlier to roll up his ribs and into his throat, and makes more of that wet heat burn behind his eyes. He squeezes his eyes shut, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as fingers tremble.

“Shh, Pidge. It’s okay. He’s okay.” He isn’t. Lance is aware enough to know he isn’t okay, despite the fact that the only thing keeping him from feeling completely numb is the nasty heat running under his skin, threatening to boil him alive. “It’s… It’s Keith, Pidge. I think they’re—” Hunk cuts himself off and Lance can feel how he shifts his weight, feels the brush of Hunk’s neck against his hair as he looks down at him. Lance can feel the rumble of, “I think they’re through, Pidge,” even if Hunk tries to whisper it and the reality of it hits Lance again, a cage around his lungs and a sick weight in his stomach.

“Oh shit.” Lance hears Pidge shuffle from one foot to the other, and Hunk must share a look with them because the next thing they’re saying is much softer. “Okay, uh. I’ll go tell Allura that uh—you’ll brief her in the morning, okay, Lance?” Lance nods. The movement dislodges the tears that had been fighting their way out. He wipes at his face roughly, his hands still shaking. Hearing someone else realize it, someone else bring it to life, is just enough to bring back feeling to Lance’s deadened nerves.

“It’s okay, buddy. It’s going to be okay.” Hunk is telling him, shuffling them further down the hall. He finally gets Lance into a bed and Lance can’t even tell if it’s his own or not. All he cares about is the fact that there’s a blanket, he can bury himself under it, and maybe, just maybe, no one will be able to find him under it. “Do you want me to stay here tonight, bud? I want to, but I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

Lance finally looks up and nods, unable to meet Hunk’s eyes. Hunk doesn’t seem to mind though, because he’s immediately kicking off his shoes and letting Lance hide his face in his shoulder. “Thanks, Hunk.” The words scratch his throat and Lance has to cough to clear them out.

Hunk’s arm winds around his shoulder, pulling him in just a little too tight, but Lance doesn’t say anything. “Bud, you don’t need to thank me, seriously.”

Lance wants to argue, wants to express how he does need to thank him, wants to tell him how he can't be alone right now, and having Hunk here means the world to him—but he doesn't have the emotional energy to put his feelings into words right now. Instead, he just squeezes Hunk back, burying his face in the soft fabric of his shirt, and closes his eyes against how much he longs for the feel of Keith’s heartbeat beneath his palm right now.

Lance isn’t sure how much he actually sleeps and how much he’s just laying there, but at some point during the night, he hears the door slide open through a half-lucid dream. For a second his heart stops. Through the fog of exhaustion, for just that second, he thinks Keith has come back and is so sorry, and is going to tell him how this all was a mistake and—but then there’s a dip in the mattress and Lance can feel the small body of Pidge outlined against his back as they carefully slide in behind him. His teeth and heart clench against the disappointment that rolls over him—he’s stupid, he’s so, so stupid for letting even an inch of hope crawl in. He knows Keith better than to let himself think he’d take back a decision like that.

Pidge doesn’t wrap an arm around him or get too close, but Lance can feel where they’ve reached behind them to lay a hand on his arm as they curl up beside him. Lance squeezes his eyes tighter against the fresh tears. He starts to shake against all his efforts to hold all of it inside himself, and Pidge’s grip tightens on his arm. They don’t move until Lance does, as if they don’t want to scare him off, but as soon as Lance shuffles himself away from Hunk’s snoring form, Pidge is flipping over and propping themselves up on one elbow.

Lance can’t see their expression in the dark, but he can hear the uneasy apprehension in their voice. “I don’t know what to say to make you feel better, Lance.” The desperate edge to their voice breaks a little more of something inside Lance, the pieces adding to the growing mound in the pit of his stomach. The thought that he's the cause of that hopeless tone in his friend's voice just feels too heavy to bear in his chest. He can't be that, not on top of all of the other things going on right now.

Lance breathes in a shuddering breath. He knows Pidge doesn’t do other people’s emotions very well, but the fact they’re here right now, andtrying, means so much to Lance, and he can’t let them think they’re not enough for him. Sure, what’s enough for him right now would be Keith beside him like he was just a few weeks prior, but that doesn’t mean his friends mean any less to him. Even though he’s hurting more than he thinks he ever has, he can’t let them hurt for him. He can’t—because if he does, he doesn’t think he’d be able to pull himself back up under the weight of that guilt that is already churning low in his belly, underneath the weight of all those pieces.

“You don’t have to say anything, Pidgeling,” Lance breathes out, because actual words feel too rough against his raw throat.

Pidge shakes their head, hair falling in front of their eyes without their glasses as a barrier. “No, I know, I just. I wish there was a way I could fix this for you.”

“This isn’t something for you to fix,” Lance tells them firmly, finding a little strength in that small resolve. He can tell they’re about to counter and he’s too tired to argue, so he flips himself onto his back and pulls them with him. He ruffles their hair when they reluctantly settle in under his arm. Hunk twitches and lets out a loud snore at the movement, and both Lance and Pidge hold a breath—when Hunk doesn’t wake up, they both relax. Lance allows himself a small smile at the snort Pidge lets out, even if the lifting of his lips feels heavy and wrong. It feels a little bit more normal though, with someone to be better for.

He clears his throat, trying to dislodge the emotion still stuck there. “Seriously, though. I’ll be okay. I just—” Lance swallows, trying to make a promise to himself with his words, as much as he’s promising Pidge. “I need some time. To you know, process this. I won’t let it stop me though. I was a paladin before all this, and I’ll be a paladin after.”

Lance can feel Pidge watching him for a long moment, before they sigh and roughly let their head fall back down against the crook of Lance’s shoulder. They blow a piece of hair out of their face and it floats up to tickle Lance’s nose. “Fine. One week. You get one week to… To do whatever it is you need to do to process. And then you’ll be okay?” Lance knows the uncertainty in their voice is supposed to be hidden, so he ignores it.

He feigns confidence he doesn’t feel when he says, “I bet you it’ll only be five days, dude.”

Pidge huffs out a laugh that feels a little bit more normal before yawning, “You’re on.”

Lance sighs and settles back in, knowing he probably won’t be able to fall back asleep. Five days; he gives himself five days. Not to get over it, but to build himself back up to enough of a functioning person that will be able to fool everyone. And maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll fool himself too.

By the time Lance figures it’s acceptable to be awake, he manages to wiggle his way to the end of the bed and slips out from between Pidge and Hunk. He sits at the edge of the bed for a minute, listening to Hunk’s soft snoring and the shuffling Pidge does to take up the space he just left unoccupied. The day already feels like too much. He stares at his hands where they’re hanging between his knees and tries to will himself to stand, but there’s some kind of disconnect between his brain and his legs; there is an overwhelming pressure building from his neck down his spine at the thought of facing the day after everything that settled into reality yesterday.

How can this actually be real? He watches his thumb rub back and forth over his palm and barely feels it... but the feeling is there, so he knows this isn’t some residual nightmare that just won’t end. That honestly kind of makes it worse, knowing the hollow pit in his chest actually belongs there, and it isn’t going to get filled when he wakes back up. This isn’t some sort of anxiety-fueled hallucination; this is real. The knowledge clogs Lance’s lungs with a heavy weight that blocks his throat. Rapid little intakes of air start to come more frequently than actual breath. Lance is starting to panic again—his chest feels like it’s winding in on itself—there’s shifting behind him, barely heard over the rush in his ears—

And then there’s a heavy hand on his shoulder, grabbing him and reeling him back in.

“Breath, Lance,” Hunk tells him gently. Lance gulps in air. His lungs burn from the effort. He realizes he’s trembling; small tremors run through his hands as he watches them shake. He knows it shouldn’t be calming but he focuses on that feeling, that action, and forces his breathing to normalize.

“Thanks, Hunk.” Lance’s voice is more gravel than actual words. He tries to clear his throat as quietly as possible, tossing a look back at Pidge to make sure he didn’t wake them up too. Thanking Hunk is the only thing he seems to be doing these days. And it still isn’t enough to express the gratitude he feels, even when everything else is fuzzy at the edges. It’s a feeling he isn’t afraid to focus on because he knows it won’t hurt—it’s one step closer to normal. He grabs at it greedily as his breath settles back into his lungs.

“Of course, man. I thought I told you not to thank me, though.” Hunk’s huff of laughter is hesitant. Lance can’t let him feel like he needs to tiptoe around him, so he manages a small grin in response. Hunk’s shoulders seem to ease a little and Lance counts it as a win. “Do you want some breakfast?”

And this is normal, this feels like it should be normal, so Lance says yes. He moves quietly through his room, getting dressed beside Hunk, before they both head toward the kitchen. The halls don’t feel as loud during the day, and a small feeling of relief washes over Lance. He doesn’t think he can deal with feeling overwhelmed like that again so soon, which is why he averts his eyes as they walk past Keith’s door. He can’t help the way his heart starts hammering in his chest as they pass it, but he can save himself from looking at it.

There’s no one else in the kitchen—thank God—so it gives Lance some time to prepare himself to face the others today. By now he’s sure Allura at least was able to piece together something happened. Between the way Keith was acting last night, and the fact Pidge had to tell her Lance wouldn’t be coming to a briefing, the thought is enough to mortify him.

Hunk starts to chop some pink fruit and Lance’s fingers drum a beat to match the sounds of the knife as he sits at the counter. He’s focusing a little too hard on the humiliation starting to roll in his stomach and it’s making him nauseous. He can’t let Allura think this is going to come between him and the mission; he feels so petty, getting so torn up so easily when there are people literally risking their lives in a war he’s supposed to be giving his entire attention to.

“Earth to Lance, hey—”

Hunk’s hand in front of his face makes him jump, flailing a little when he starts to tip back in his chair. He catches the edge of the counter to steady himself, looking up at Hunk sharply. “Dude.”

“Hey, sorry man, but to be fair I had been talking for like, at least three minutes and you were totally zoned out on me. You okay there?”

Lance shrugs with one shoulder, “I guess.”

Hunk snorts, his eye roll probably being felt all the way back to Earth. “You want to talk about it?”

Lance lowers his eyes at that, knowing they’d give away too much. It’s always hardest to hide things from Hunk, and he knows it. “Nothing to talk about, really. You were there last night.”

Lance hears Hunk pause his whipping of some cream. Lance hopes maybe if he doesn’t say anything else, Hunk will let it drop—but he knows he’s not that lucky.

“Yeah, I was there,” Hunk says slowly, resuming his whisking, “but I was hoping maybe you’d want to talk some of it out? You know... with me, maybe?”

Lance knocks his foot against the side of the counter and doesn’t answer.

“Because, you know, I know you guys had said something was going on between you two but since… Well, you know, since Shiro—” Hunk stops himself and Lance hears him swallow. “You haven’t really talked to me about it, so I wasn’t sure—well, I wanted you guys to be able to figure it out yourselves, you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Lance’s answer is soft; the air around him swallows up the words and leaves room for more, but he’s not sure how much he can say right now.

“Right. But after last night, after—how you reacted, I guess, I just—I didn’t realize how serious things had gotten between you two.” Hunk’s voice trails off and Lance supposes this is where he’s supposed to elaborate. Where he’s supposed to explain the mess that grew between him and Keith these last couple of months, the tangle of emotions and dependence, and he’s supposed to somehow make sense of it all.

When it comes down to it, the only residue left behind is hurt; so really, what did it all matter in the first place?

“It wasn’t,” Lance tells him, the words burning like a lie in his throat, “It wasn’t serious between us after all, I guess.”

Every time they enter a new section of the universe, the first thing Keith does is slip out and take Red to search. Lance doesn’t know if he thinks they all don’t notice or if he just doesn’t care what they think; honestly, Lance leans toward the latter and the thought stings. There was a time he was pretty sure his opinion actually meant something to Keith. He has to remind himself it was real, the feelings he had were—are— real and so were Keith’s, because otherwise he starts to lose himself in a spiral of self-disappointment. He can’t afford to let himself go like that again.

He gave himself the five days; five days to get better—to get okay. He makes himself hold onto that promise to Pidge, giving himself purpose for moving forward every day. He can’t let himself bring the team down just because he lost the most important relationship he’s had since well. Since ever, but so what? He’s Lance. He tells himself that actually means something and makes himself keep going.

He won’t let this bring him—bring the team, the universe—down. In the end, nothing else matters, right? Really, he shouldn’t have tried to distract himself from the mission in the first place, especially not with Keith. He knew better from the start than to think he’d ever actually get to keep something as fragile as what they had, for as long as he did. They all had more important priorities and he put something trivial in front of them. Which is exactly what they all thought of him anyway, right? Loverboy Lance, getting caught up in some whirlwind romance.

He has to prove he’s more than the pain he gave himself.

“Okay, team, we’re going to try something a little different today. I know we’re all exhausted,” Coran’s voice cuts through Lance’s thoughts, as booming as the entrance he makes into the lounge with the door slamming behind him. “But! There is always time for a little jaunt around our mind palaces, eh?”

Hunk rolls his head across the back of the couch towards Lance—eyes wide, he makes a face that shows how much he wants to go on a jaunt—and Lance shoves his shoulder a little as he stands, joints popping. “Sure, Coran my man, what do you have in mind?” Lance throws a pair of finger guns towards Coran which earns him a hoot. He tries to feel the lazy grin he gives back, but the tug on his lips mainly feels like a weight too heavy to hold.

“Atta boy, Number Three! Come, I’ll explain once we’re all in the training room.” Coran doesn’t give them time to ask anything else—slamming through the door as loudly as he came in— leaving Lance and Hunk both blinking after him.

“Well, I guess we should go see what all that is about.”

Lance nods and offers a hand to help Hunk up, trying to look more enthusiastic than he feels. They make a more leisurely path towards the training room together, Lance shoving his hands in his pockets as he walks to keep from fidgeting. If Coran was this worked up, it means this is probably a team exercise—as in, the whole team. He’s had his five days, but he hasn’t had much else, and Lance’s heart trembles at the thought of having to work with Keith.

Hunk—practical angel that he is, damn it—seems to sense the shift in Lance’s mood. “Hey man, are you gonna be okay?”

Lance raises one eyebrow, choosing the dumb approach. “I know I’m not the sharpest cookie in the toybox, Hunk, buddy, but I think I can handle Coran’s mind fortress or whatever.”

Hunk rolls his eyes and bumps his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

“ ‘Fraid I don’t, bud. C’mon, we should hurry before they’ve assigned all the extra hard training exercises,” Lance tells him with no room for argument, pulling his arm and leading them resolutely toward the training room.

When the doors open, Lance has to swallow his breath because Keith is already there—of course he is, because where else would he be? He’s only ever in the training room or in Red anymore, not that Lance keeps track of him. Keith is leaning against a far wall, jacket slung off to a corner, and Lance can’t tell if he’s actually lost in thought or if he’s staring at the ground to avoid seeing who’s coming through the door. Lance would bet ten weeks of chores it’s the latter, and it breaks his heart; Keith had always been a little more isolated, but he had started including himself just a little more until recently. Lance liked to think—for a few dumb seconds—that it had been him who brought that out in Keith, but whatever.

Lance and Hunk gravitate towards where Pidge is slumped over on the ground next to Coran, propping themselves up on their knee as Coran excitedly explains the technology of the helmet in his hand. Lance purposefully doesn’t turn to watch when he hears Keith walk over to join them; he does, however, take a breath, waits three seconds, and turns to give him a smile across from Hunk. Keith is staring straight ahead though, and Lance buries the sting in his chest with the rest of the loose pieces of his heart.

“Paladins, we want to try a team building exercise,” Allura tells them all when Coran gets lost in his explanation and needs an elbow to the side.

“Oh, yes! We want to help bring you all together with a little exercise in understanding each other.”

Pidge groans. “This isn’t another mind meld exercise, is it?”

Coran laughs, wagging a finger. “Not quite, Number Five!”

If Lance didn’t know better, he’d think that Allura was resolutely not looking at him when she says, “No, Pidge, this exercise is more about communication with each other.”

“Right! So, what you’ll be doing is—” and Lance mostly tunes out the instructions, catching the drift about something regarding a puzzle and trying to solve it with their eyes closed and only one person—who gets to see the finished product—giving instructions. Simple, standard, and a nightmare when Coran asks Lance to try giving the directions first.

“Okay, uh, Pidge—yeah that piece right under your hand, put that with Hunk’s—no, to your right. Awesome! Okay, Keith, you uh.” Lance swallows, watching as Keith’s hand hesitates.

Hunk, a little too brightly, shoves a piece in the air. “What about this one, Lance? This piece feels like it’s important.”

Lance sighs and tries to not let the relief be heard in his voice. “Yeah, buddy, that sure is a good one. I think it goes in the corner? Can you feel your way up—yep, there you go.”

“Lance,” Keith says his name quietly after a few more turns of Pidge and Hunk passing pieces back and forth. Lance’s heart stutters at the sound, and for a second he thinks he misheard it. “Where does this piece go?”

Lance can feel his heartbeat in his fingertips as he drums them against his thigh. “Um—” Lance’s mind goes blank, the sound of Keith saying his name so softly vibrating in his ears.

“Lance?” There’s something else in Keith’s voice. Lance thinks he can see it buried somewhere deep in his guarded face—half hidden by the handkerchief Coran insisted they each wear over their eyes—but then it’s gone as Keith shifts his face down toward the floor, as if he could feel Lance’s gaze.

“To your right. Um. A little down. Yeah.”

Lance watches Keith’s fingers too closely as he presses the piece into place. “Thanks.”

There’s a little less tension between the four of them then, as Lance realizes Hunk and Pidge had both stopped feeling around for pieces during the interaction. Something was broken, a gate was left open, and Lance breathes a little easier. They’re able to get the puzzle done pretty quickly after that, Lance only hesitating a fraction when he needs Keith to move a piece, and it’s okay. This is okay.

“Great work, Paladins! So good to see you all working together.” Allura claps when they finish, the blindfolds discarded. “With everything that’s happened lately, I know it’s hard to remember you are a team but with better communication, everyone will be sure to benefit.” Lance can tell how much she’s trying to lift everyone’s spirits, knows that the weight of Shiro’s absence has been a heavy burden on her shoulders.

So he pushes a smile out, one that would have been easier before, and says, “Pssh, Princess, we rock this communication thing so hard the Balmera would be jealous.” When she actually laughs, Lance’s smile turns a little softer around the edges.

“What’s the actual point to this?” Keith interrupts and Lance’s smile falters; the sudden change in tone is palpable, the shift of Keith’s voice cutting through the tentatively proud atmosphere.

“Number Four, the Princess just said—”

“No, I know what she said. But what’s the point? Why are we wasting time here, anyway?” Keith asks, tone rising from disinterest to hostile in less time than it takes Lance’s heart rate to catch up with the situation.

“Keith, communication is important between team members.” Allura’s voice is gentle but the look on her face is turning harder with each agitated fidget coming from Keith.

“Which would be great, if we were all here to actually communicate.” Keith throws out and Lance sees the way Allura stifles a flinch, her gaze steely.

There’s a decisive set to Allura’s shoulders when she says, “You can’t keep using Shiro to try to hurt the team, Keith.”

Lance can’t stop his intake of breath in time, but neither can Pidge or Hunk. They all three watch, breath stuck in the crackling air between Keith and Allura, before Lance can’t take it and takes a step forward.

“Keith—”

“Don’t,” Keith bites out and Lance flinches. Allura’s eyes twitch toward him but never fully leave Keith’s bristling form. Keith doesn’t look at him, and Lance isn’t sure if it hurts or not anymore. “I’m done here.”

“I think you are,” Allura agrees. “I think we all are. Good work today, Paladins. I think you all should get some rest.” Keith doesn’t wait for her to finish before he’s out the door, and Lance can’t help but watch him leave.

After that, it’s hard to be around Keith and the team, but Lance manages. Not well, really, but he doesn’t think the team notices too much, so it counts. It has to count.

It gets harder the first time they have to run a mission as just the four of them, though. Well, the four of them and Kolivan’s men. Lance thinks a little bitterly how not fair it is, that even having a handful worth of Blade members on their team does nothing to fill the hole that just one person left. Shiro’s absence still feels like a wound in all of their sides, and for Lance that wound ripped open wide enough to swallow his heart, too. He thinks, in a weak moment, how nice it must be to have that effect on people because he’s pretty certain he wouldn’t leave a chasm nearly this big, if at all, were he to ever leave the team.

As soon as the thought passes through his mind, though, he regrets it. He feels like shit for even thinking it, and pulls at Blue’s controls a little too roughly and gets a growl in his head as a response.

“Sorry, girl. It’s not your fault, I know.” There was a warm buzz of reassurance fleeting through his mind that he thinks is supposed to tell him it’s not his fault, either, for feeling the way he does but he can’t help but ignore it. He can’t stop himself from feeling like he’ll never be that important to anyone because look at what happened with Keith—the one person Lance was so sure would always want him, who left him with only a second’s thought.

He makes Blue push on with a bruising force and she tries to calm him with a purr that buzzes over his skin, but he can’t let himself have that kind of comfort right now or he’d give into the fragility that’s aching in his bones.

That ache doesn’t stop but it does get easier to ignore when Lance has to put on a show for all the locals who gather around their group after the Galra are run off into the atmosphere. It’s always easier when he has someone besides himself to pretend for; he never can hold up the facade very long when the only audience he has is staring at him in the mirror.

When that audience starts chanting for Voltron, though, Lance can feel his resolve crumble a little more.

He can also feel the tension begin to over-boil inside Keith, the look on his face slipping from where Lance watches him across the crowd. His eyes are still trained to find Keith, always looking for him, and he sees the moment when it all gets to be too much; Lance takes a step automatically to follow when Keith finally turns on his heel and silently goes back to Red. He stops himself, though, one arm wrapped around his belly as if that would be enough to keep his heart from falling down and out of it. He only gets a second to let himself slip before he remembers where he is and he plasters a grin on his face before whirling to meet the crowd.

Lance feels himself flinch against Keith’s outburst in front of all the leaders of the coalition; truthfully, he’s surprised Keith has kept his composure as much as he had these last couple of weeks. Lance was expecting something much worse, much sooner, but that thought only reminds him that he’s not there beside Keith anymore to have more than just a guess as to what’s going on inside his head.

With a faltering grin, Lance cracks a joke he doesn’t feel—something about how the Red lion always picks the fiery ones, and the leaders all give uneasy smiles at the attempt to lighten the mood. It takes more reassurance and grace from Allura to salvage the dinner than anyone else could ever hope to pull off, and Lance’s foot is tapping in antsy impatience by the time the group are satisfied and heading to their guest quarters on the Castle for the night.

As soon as the leaders are seen off, Lance is up and heading toward the hangar. He can feel Blue leading him there, a soft pull trying to lead him to where she thinks he will find the thing that will calm him down. He doesn’t have the heart to reach back out to her otherwise she may feel the heavy despair in his heart at the thought that even his lion knows all he wants is to be by Keith’s side again.

He knows the rest of the team is following behind him and he’s grateful, because he doesn’t really know what he’s going to do when he reaches his destination. He knows Keith hasn’t wanted to talk to him—let alone seek comfort from him—since that night. But Lance can’t stop himself from following the urge to be there for him, not when it pulls like a string in his chest leading him to where he’s supposed to be. That bone deep ache is insistent now, thrumming through each of his limbs and begging him to stop, but he knows there’s nothing that would stop him from going to Keith. Nothing ever has.

When they all reach the hangar and see Keith motionless, staring at Black like he has all the answers to every question that has kept them all up at night, they all stop and watch. Out of the corner of his eye, Lance can see as, one by one, the team turns toward him to go to Keith—and he’s moving before anyone can even say anything.

He has to force a casual tone and knows he’s standing a little too close, a little too soon, but everything in him is coming back to life at finally being close to Keith again. His heart breaks into a few more pieces because it’s not in the way he wants. There’s something between them, Lance can feel it, and there’s nothing he can do to touch it again.

“Hey, man.”

There’s a twitch of fingers against Lance’s and he holds his breath, only to let it out on a sharp exhale when Keith suddenly folds his arms across his chest.

“I know—” Lance catches himself and winces, their last argument ricocheting between his ears. “I uh. We—we can tell you’re hurting. We miss Shiro too, Keith. We all miss him. Finding someone to fly Black, it doesn’t mean we miss him any less. Or that we’ll stop looking for him. We’ll—I’ll never stop looking for him, Keith.”

Keith’s gaze hesitantly shifts over to Lance, something vulnerable hidden behind his bangs. That small, hesitant opening gives Lance the strength to let his next words tumble out, barely wanting to catch them as they fall. “I—we. The team, we’re always going to be here for you, Keith. If you let us.” That look in Keith’s eye turns a little sharper, a little more acute and Lance can’t stop staring, his heartbeat thrumming in his veins.

Lance isn’t sure if it’s just him being hopeful or not but he thinks there’s a little regret there, too. “I know,” Keith says, the words barely more than a movement of lips, but Lance finds himself following the shape of them as his breath stills in his chest.

The moment is gone in a second, though, before Keith is looking back up at the looming presence of Black in front of them.

Lance is about to turn around and just forget about it when Keith mumbles out a quiet, powerful, “Thank you, Lance.”

Lance’s ribs constrict his lungs as he forces himself to meet Keith’s eyes—and after a moment that leaves him breathless and aching, he nods and heads back toward the others. When he passes them, he can’t meet the look of pity in their eyes.

It’s later that night and Lance can’t sleep; not that it’s anything new, really. He has barely slept since that first night Keith left his room in a rush, and there’s really been nothing else since then to make his nights come easier. He always finds himself drifting around the ship and he knows it’s pathetic, because half of him hopes he would run into Keith again and it would be like a redo. A restart to the shitty end game he got.

The other half dreads it because he knows better than to trust that other, hopeful half of himself ever again.

The one rule he gives himself on these little trips, though, is that he can’t ever find himself near the command room again. He can’t bring himself to face that room because he feels like the memories of it would suffocate him as soon as he walked in. But tonight he decides to break it, in hopes that maybe it really would steal all his breath away, and he wouldn’t have to deal with any of this ever again.

He drags his fingers across one of the chairs, eyes lingering on the ground and lost in thought when he hears someone else enter behind him. Immediately, his spine stiffens and his eyes fly wide because shit, if this really is Keith he’s not ready okay, he hasn’t had time to prepare himself to pretend to be okay. He has to have a solid five minutes minimum to make himself ready to face the guy, Universe, so really next time be more considerate, okay—

“Lance?”

Allura’s soft question causes Lance’s shoulders to sag in relief, his heart rate dropping out of overdrive. Lance swings himself around, plastering a smile on because he can do this, he can pretend for Allura, no problem. You got off easy this time, Universe.

“Fancy meeting you here, Princess,” Lance winces when his tone is just shy of right, but he rolls with it.

Allura stares at him for a moment, hesitating in the doorway, before tapping her fingers against the door in a decidedly not-Allura moment of uncertainty. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Lance fakes a yawn, stretching, “Well you know, Princess, I would love that, but really I was just about to hit the hay myself—”

“I was really hoping we could talk, Lance.” Her tone makes Lance’s arms drop, because he knows that tone. Goodbye uncertainty, hello royal authority. “About Keith, I mean.” As if there was anything else she would track him down for in the middle of the night after the dinner they just had.

Lance slumps, shuffling over to the edge of the room, right in front of the wide expanse of space he kind of wishes would swallow him up right about now. There’s a pit in his stomach as he hears Allura’s light footsteps follow behind him. She stops at his side and he resolutely does not start the conversation. If she wants to drag it out of him, fine, but he’s not going to make it easy on her.

Too much time passes, and Lance looks anywhere but over at Allura; he doesn't think he can take the look of pity in her eyes. There's too much in there. He’s never been one to be able to face something he doesn’t want to think about reflected in someone else’s eyes. His resolve lasts for about five more seconds before he’s sighing, “Look, Allura, I’m okay. I really am.”

“Lance, I’d appreciate if you didn’t lie to your princess, you know.” Allura lets out on a sigh as she settles down next to him on the floor of the command room. The way she sits looks slightly wrong, all bad angles, but if she’s uncomfortable it doesn’t show on her face. No, that same soft look she’s been giving him for the last few weeks is still there. It’s like she thinks he’s going to break, and honestly—it’s insulting. Lance can keep all of his broken emotions bottled up with the best of ‘em, thanks.

“I’m not—” He starts but the look she gives him has him redirecting, “—not really lying. I’m mostly okay.”

“Mostly okay isn’t what you deserve, Lance.”

Lance laughs a little because he can’t stop thinking about how before, he would have killed for Allura to be telling him how he deserves better, sitting alone curled up in an empty command room; before Keith, before his dumb, soft looks, before his quiet moments and barely-there vulnerability. Instead, all he can think about is how this is how everything started for him and Keith, really. This room was their beginning, and Lance’s heart aches under the weight of all the memories hanging in the air.

“I know, Princess. Don’t worry, though; I’m not going to let this affect my performance as a paladin, I promise.”

Lance praises himself for not jumping at the gentle hand she places on his shoulder; even the smallest touch lately seems to make him feel too overwhelmed, and he’s not proud of that. “I’m not worried about you as my paladin, Lance. I’m just worried about you as my friend.” If it’s possible, that look on her face turns even softer, and Lance can’t deny that look for long before he’s meeting her eyes with his own half-hearted smile.

He turns his head to look back out at the expanse of space in front of them before he lets that smile drop. He tosses his next words back and forth—each of them a weight in his chest he knows he should let go of, but he can’t let someone else drown with him. “I know, and that means so much to me. I just don’t know what to tell you; I really will be okay. I’ll get over this. I should have known better, anyway.” The last part is barely above his breath, mostly said to berate himself one more time because honestly, he probably deserves the reminder. He doesn’t think he’d survive letting himself forget again.

Allura definitely catches his intentions; he can see the way the edges of her features lose some of that softness. She stays quiet, though, and just sits beside him for a while. He can feel the warmth of her next to his shoulder, and even though it’s not exactly a comfortable silence, he appreciates the support she’s trying to show him. It means something, even if he can’t let her in far enough to know just how much.

Lance thinks he sees a shooting star and is about to point it out just to say something else—to steer the conversation away from his feelings—but then Allura is clearing her throat and shifting a little awkwardly. “I may be way off base here in what I’m about to say, since you insist you are alright, but I have seen the way you look when you don’t think anyone is watching anymore, Lance. I just want to help you. So, will you just listen?” There’s a long beat with her just looking him steadfastly in the eyes before Lance realizes she’s actually asking.

Silently, he nods.

“I don’t know exactly what you and Keith had. I know it was important to you though; to both of you. You both had been… So much more at peace recently and whether or not it’s because of each other, I cannot say, but I do know it’s been different since, well.” Allura clears her throat again, clearly uncomfortable, but Lance appreciates the way she soldiers on.

“Everything has an end, whether you expect it or not. It’s how you handle that end that defines the experience you had overall, I think. Something can still hurt and you can still be angry; you’re allowed to hurt and be angry at Keith, Lance. You’re allowed to be bitter. You’re allowed to wish it didn’t end. But you do still have to grow from it. You have to face it and take it in and know that it may not stop hurting for a very, very long time—but that doesn’t mean you can’t still move on from it.”

Allura doesn’t look like she’s fully completely talking about him and Keith anymore but Lance doesn’t point it out. He knows that letting go while still letting something hurt is a lesson she had to learn by herself, and his heart breaks even more knowing she’s trying to share that lesson with him for something he knows isn’t as harsh as the teacher she had to learn from. Overwhelmed, Lance lurches forward and wraps his arms around her shoulders, burying his face in her neck and letting himself have one shaky breath before steadying himself out.

It’s only a second of hesitation before she’s wrapping her arms around him too. It’s a gentle pressure at his back that is still very nearly too much, but he ignores the feeling because he has to do this. He has to push past this. “Thank you, Princess.”

Her soft dismissal of the appreciation does nothing to push it down in Lance’s chest. It’s this, he thinks, that will make her a great ruler and why he loves her; why he will continue to follow her. She is a soldier, royalty, a diplomat—but she is also so kind in the moments Lance knows mean the most, and that’s what makes her a leader. She lets herself be soft and lets herself feel, and it makes her no less valuable. He thinks maybe, just maybe, he can use that to lead himself out of this, too.

#klance #klance fic #laith #laith fic #klance fic rec #my fic #bonded (in your arms)#i think next ch will be the last #then comes part 2 #which is actually almost finished lmao #do i have a word of ch9 written???#nope #but i have 7k of the first part #of part 2 done lol #bonded series

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moldygreenblue · 6 years

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Meet the Robinsons Re-watch

I freaking love this film when I was younger but I haven’t watch it in a good while where I could actually make a review about it. I got my chance thanks to Netflix and while I still love this film...my god did the writers really screw up time traveling to make this film work. The fact there are SEVEN writers says it.

Before I get into that though, let’s talk about some other things!

Pretty sure Lewis’ mother and Franny share similar models. Actually, I’m sure most characters similar models. Freaky.

It’s funny to watch this film because every other scene Lewis’ voice changes voice actor. Makes it seems like he’s going through puberty (actually, I think that’s why he has two voice actors to beginning with because I think one of them enter puberty and they need lines ASAP).

Speaking of voices, Wilbur’s voice is deep for a thirteen year old and it’s jarring when his voice goes super high pitch like a kid in two scenes: where Wilbur tells his mom Lewis is an orphan (like dude, I know you know Lewis is your dad who eventually get adopted but don’t say it so casually) and when he and Carl rescue Lewis.

Also, Wilbur got sass by his mom without even knowing it! (:0)

The whole Future World is cool, but what’s with the bubbles? Like, people fly in them, and when the Bad Future goes bye-bye, the regular Future World comes back as bubbles.

I’m not surprised that the family doesn’t know about the garage/can’t find it (sans Wilbur, Carl, Franny, and Cornelius) since the house is A FREAKING HUGE LETTER R.

Singing Frogs Are Cool. Not sure how they could wear teeth, but whatever.

The Pop Quiz scene is a freaking goldmine. Then the Tom Selleck joke puts the icing on the cake. Once you get to the ending though...you got to wonder if Wilbur said Tom Selleck for another reason.

I think Cornelius made some device to makes sure animals don’t kill people because the T-Rex is acting waaay too calm at the Robinsons’ household. I mean, that explains Lefty.

BHG’s revealing himself to be Goob is actually a good plot twist because you think the short sad sport kid couldn’t be a villain until BAM! His future self is! And it’s shocking to see since Goob in an earlier scene was willing to let got of the lost of the game and pretty much not blaming Lewis for it, and you see BHG not forgiving Cornelius, showing such a contrast on how two people who are the same actually are. It’s like, seeing the worse version of yourself (and it’s technically true).

Doris clearly belongs to the Terminator franchise.

...What happened to Lefty and the dog in the Bad Future?

DID THE FILM EVEN SHOW WHAT HAPPENED TO CORNELIUS IN THE BAD FUTURE? LIKE NOT EVEN A SILHOUETTE?

I only got a quick look at the date Lewis imputed, but Lucille and Bud’s wedding happened at least 15 years prior to the film (and judging by the fact a young Mildred is there apparently, I’m not surprised Mildred was certain Lewis and the new family was going to click).

I love the credit songs, especially the second one.

...THE SECOND TIME MACHINE IS STILL IN THE PAST DID NO ONE REMEMBER THIS? WRITERS? ANYONE?

Now we get to the nitty-gritty stuff...TIME TRAVEL:

Lewis pretty much caused a hole in the time-space continuum by saying he will never invent Doris. It got worse when Lewis let Goob catch the ball because Future!Goob is BHG and BHG is who he is due to the past. Now, it’s possible that by erasing Doris, BHG is just an angry man fuel by his past. By letting Goob catch the ball, it makes sense that BHG changed into a happy adult!Goob.

But that means the T-Rex shouldn’t be in the ending because the second time machine never got stolen at all. That leads to my next point.

From my knowledge of watching time travel films/shows with time traveling, it’s okay for future people to touch and interact with people from the past. It’s also okay in some films/shows to let past and future version of a character to see each other (Back to the Future being the sole exception to my knowledge)...but no touching interactions. Like seriously, Sailor Moon Manga Black Moon Arc (same deal in Crystal’s adaptation I think) has Usagi and Neo-Queen Serenity see each other, but the two Silver Cystals (don’t remember their real names) could not touch or else shit will happen (and it almost happened due to one of the villains!). Why am I bringing up Sailor Moon for this?

Because there’s no way Cornelius should have been able to touch Lewis on the shoulder (or cover his eyes for that matter) without serious problems in the Time-Space continuum. That means there’s one of two things:

1. Lewis does became Cornelius, and does married Franny and the two have Wilbur (the idea of Wilbur disappearing because Lewis somehow was involve in how Franny and bio!dad got together so Lewis not becoming Cornelius factored into that is complicated, even for this movie). The thing is Cornelius died. On his trip. It explains why there isn’t a Bad!Future Cornelius shown. Anyway, Franny calls to get Cornelius but BAM! She learns her husband just died. Frantic, she tells the friend and told him what is happening, Realizing this is a big problem, the friend, who just happened to look similar to Cornelius (Lewis has freckles-like things on his face, Adult “Cornelius” doesn’t), decides to be Cornelius (by say, dying his hair) until Lewis leaves to the past and once they get the second time machine and return the T-Rex. Wilbur (and I guess rest of family) never learns of the ruse, since with Doris erasing to nowhere means Lewis!Cornelius keeps his word and BHG is rewritten to be an adult Goob who kept his love of sports, the time-space continuum fixes itself with no time-loop needed at all. This allows Wilbur and the rest of family (plus Franny again since time got re-written so doesn’t remember the film events) to properly learns of Cornelius’s death on the trip via friend (who hair is back to its natural color because time re-written itself so he didn’t have to be his recently dead friend).

2. The Time Machines are time machines...but it also travels across alternate/parallel universes. Everyone is just going back in the past of a parallel universe where the film happened to resemble’s Cornelius and BHG’s past. Rules regarding alternate/parallel universe allow the touching interaction rule with past and future version of characters (I mean, Fringe had the two Olivia’s beating the crap out of each other, so that means the same ‘character’ can interact with each other). With this logic, the Bad Future is a pocket universe that was going to replace Main Universe, Film Universe, or both, but Time Machine One is still there because the future isn’t done being settle yet. Going along with this, Lewis is still a kid because time-space continuum has no idea if they should leave him as his kid self visiting the main universe or forcing him into his adult self in the new universe. Once the dust is settle and the film ended, we can figure the differences between the two universes: Main Universe has Cornelius still invented Doris who is suddenly gone, BHG is out there looking for his new future, and the family has a broken window and pet T-Rex. Film Universe has Lewis/Cornelius never planning to build Doris, an adult Goob who kept his love of sports, and the family has no broken window and pet T-Rex.

I like the second option better.

#meet the robinsons #moldy watching movies #fuck you time traveling

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wingedhumanoid-remade · 7 years

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@wings-united because you’ve blocked me and I can’t reply to your messages. which is hilarious.

Oh i reallllllllllllllyyyyy am loving this. Are you actually reading um, anything im saying? Lets start with celocanths becuase you apparently didn't do any fucking research. Celocanths. dont. have. more. than. four. limbs. Neither do any other devonian fish. I said it really slow so you'd understand. The "limbs" you are referring to is called a "limb-like appendage," heres some photos so you can grasp this concept.

See how that worked? The other fins do not even vaugly fuction as limbs, cause theyre not.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Limb_(anatomy) "Limbs are jointed." "one of the projecting paired appendages (such as wings) of an animal body used especially for movement and grasping but sometimes modified into sensory organs." You dont look at fish, see their fins and go "HEY the've got more than four limbs!!!!" Come on. Ok, so now that that god awful excuse of a "rebuttal" is out of the way. My earlier statement still stands (hint because its a law of evolution) How did we evolve another fully functional limb. N other species on earth at the complexity above like, an amoeba, has EVER EVOLVED A NEW LIMB. Tell me, Kah. So why do you think avians would grow new limbs? ell me exactly how the limb developed. "Evolution doesn't get to make whole new mechanisms out of whole cloth. Note that both bats and birds had to sacrifice their hands to make wings. Evolution didn't just tack on wings. Their arms and hands gradually changed into wings. They re-used the basic existing structures and pectoral muscles. It's a hack. Evolution is always a hack." "The only mammal to successfully gain true flight are bats, and they have been diverged from the rest of the mammalian tree for 100 million years. We just have not been evolving for long enough, and more importantly we have been evolving to fill a completely different evolutionary niche than the one filled by flying animals. It is basically impossible for evolution to change trajectories so drastically on such short notice." Why would the avian ancestors "need" wings? What sort of circumstances could occur that would drive us to need wings that are not already resolved by us having exceptional creativity and cooperation between our kind? Evolution just doesn't work the way you're looking at it - "it would be nice if we had wings, so let's evolve some". Even if wings were needed for the survival of the species, extinction is a MUCH more likely outcome. (hy didn't the dinosaurs ALL just become tiny, so they could survive? It doesn't work that way. The ones that HAD become tiny - the ones that eventually became birds - DID survive. That's how evolution works - you don't evolve what you need, you survive IF you've evolved what you need.)

Avian ancestors did not go from "lump on back" to "wings." Cause for that to happen you need a reason to have the lumps form in the first place, and then STAY there. What purpous would having extra stuff on your back to carry around have? How would that be an evolutionary advantage? "Regeneration is literally the growth, or regrowth of limbs, and it acts on stem cells. Wing growing is a form of regeneration, but it is creating new limbs. How did the gene for those limbs evolve, thats what I'm asking. I know what regeneration is and it only works if theres a genetic code for those limbs to appear.

"You’re right, evolution edits what’s already there. Like cells, which create and grow things" No organism has ever had evolution start randomly mutating some cells on its back to grow a new limb, or anything even close to that. "My friend. We are not birds, therefore it would be impossible for us to get a pointed face, specialized heart" HOLy shit lmao. You really don't have a grasp on evolution. Theres no. reason??? avians wouldn't have gotten a more pointed and streamined face shape. I'm not saying avians would just fucking. grow a beak? Im saying they would have become you know, shaped like they were ment to fly?

“To think that Homo Avians (IS, not could be, IS) a thing that would be possible is simply stupid.” I’m,, holy shit. You’re essentially telling me that avians aren’t possible and that i don’t exist. "

HOLY SHIT ARE YOU. Serious?

Oh my god. I'm just stating the fucking facts my dude. Taxonomy is a real thing, and one rule is that organisms with a different amount of LIMBS do not get grouped in the same genus. Sorry? Again, get it through your thick skull. Just cause I say the classification of "Homo Avian" wouln't make sense, doesn't mean I think growing wings is imposible. How many times am I going to have to write that before you fucking understand?

Hominids are in the superclass Tetrapoda contains the "FOUR-limbed vertebrates known as tetrapods"

https://biology.stackexchange.com/questions/21772/why-dont-mammals-have-more-than-4-limbs https://www.quora.com/Why-arent-there-any-species-of-mammal-with-six-legs https://www.quora.com/Why-dont-any-mammals-have-more-than-4-limbs-Why-didnt-they-evolve-to-have-multiple-legs-or-arms-like-insects http://www.ucmp.berkeley.edu/vertebrates/tetrapods/tetraintro.html

"Adding a limb, on the other hand (no pun intended), is pretty expensive. You're not just adding a single extra part, but a whole network of additional blood vessels, bone structures, tissues, and what-have-you. These all need additional nutrients and a good set of genes to ensure they work together properly. On top of this, you also need the limb to not be a disadvantage. It needs to be in a useful place anatomically and immediately offer an advantage as soon as the extra limb mutation comes into play. These mutations can occur, but it's vastly more likely that they're a disadvantage. Take frogs, for example. It's not altogether uncommon for frogs to develop extra legs. What usually happens, though, is you end up with a frog that's clumsier and slower and packing more meat. Predators tend to like that sort of thing, so the mutated frogs don't live long enough to produce offspring so that the extra limb(s) could eventually become useful."

= OH boy. Have I been WAITING to roast Project Icarus. 1. "The group is elitist, claiming a special, exalted status for itself, its leader(s) and members" "Project Icarus is THE ONLY GROUP THAT CANG GROW WINGS, and anyone else who doesn't have the special"gene" i just made up IS TRASH AND HOPELESS"

2. "The group has a polarized us-versus-them mentality" Do I..... even have to say it? "US vs. "The stupid dreamers." Did you see how fast your group turned against us? Immeditly going from "friends" to "I HATE YOU RETARD NONE OF YOU HAVE POTENTIAL AND CANT GROW WINGS" etc...etc...etc... I could go on.

3. “Wouldn’t it be exciting to really know the secrets of being an avian?” HOLY SHIT. THATS LITERALLY HOW PROJECT ICARUS WORKS. "We, PI, are the ONLY group who knows the SUPER SPECIAL METHOD and the real SCIENCE of growing wings. All the other group are fucking stupid." My group is exhibiting NONE of those behaviors you’ve just “quoted”.

4. "I’m 100% positive that if someone joined your group and decided that Sahde’s was more logical, you’d threaten them, hackle them, be utmost bitches. " Ooh my god... the IRONY. You mean, hackle them and be utmost bitches like.... when sahde removed me as an admin when I didn't agree with her? When she told me to leave and make my own group cause I wans't going along with your cultlike beliefs? Actually, in my group I'm encouraging you know, actually free thought? As in "we all have differing opinions on how wings are grown, and thats ok." So yeah, good try bud but we aren't going to be like PI was.

5. "You’re making everyone in the group feel guilty and terrible." WHERE LMAO. Me? Me as in IM the one going around calling my members retards and stupid cult members like a child? oh right, thats you :/. Oh and crow, whom you persuaded to go into my group, lie, and then leave after calling us all "a cult full of dreamers." yeah. ok. and then the blocking of course. i've been blocked by almost everyone, expecially you becuase you didn't want to hear what I was saying anymore. I understand blocking oliver, and I do not condone their behavior and I definitely have asked them to stop sending you and the others edgy messages. I have not sent any one of my members to go yell at anyone from PI cause I have some common decency. You can talk to them if they hurt your feewings.

As if you and Ro are some holy angelic saints who are never mean uwuwuwuwuwu. if you're felling guilt, maybe theres a reason.

6. "invites random people to attempt to grow wings who will never grow them" You mean like.......................................................... you? sahde? ro? whom have never grown wings yet and not even proven their own ""theory?""" yeah......... thats smart. remember when sahde lied abut having wings?that was fun. remember? not cult-like at all.

We don’t let in random ppl, we haven't let anyone in. All my group is made up of ex-pi members who were tired of the bullshit. I gave them the option to leave and didn't force any of them to stay.

7. "The group displays excessively zealous and unquestioning commitment to its leader" GOD this is really funny. sahde can explain this one to you, shes already gone on a rant about it before.

8. " Questioning, doubt, and dissent are discouraged or even punished." ajhsbasjdhgjaskdashkjahfjhfldsjfh

http://www.csj.org/infoserv_cult101/checklis.htm

tdlr. i could do this all day. i know you’re never going to admit “hey maybe im wrong, my theory doesn’t make sense in terms of evolution” because you think you’re so smart and are again, full of yourself.

Please. Actually acknowledge the science instead of spouting bullshit.

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