Tumgik
#the expectations are stupid high and I hate the stupid loyalty program and I hate the stupid credit card
thesinisterseventh · 2 years
Text
I think today is the day I’m actually going to snap at work
#rea’s text posts#i can’t do this#the expectations are stupid high and I hate the stupid loyalty program and I hate the stupid credit card#and I hate that everyone—my managers AND the customers—treat me like a fucking second class citizen#for 9 hours a day for 6 days straight I am a motherfucking punching bag for EVERYONE#and they constantly make me the main cashier to face the brunt of the customers even though other people wanna be up there#so if the store doesn’t succeed on a particular day it’s my fault#and their expectations are shipment are so stupid#they cut it by an hour today and were SURPRISED i wasn’t done when they gave me TWO departments to do#when everybody else just gets one#they’re putting so much weight on my shoulders#i can’t enjoy anything anymore#I just sit there on my days off and don’t do things I wanna do because I’m just too tired#i can’t even say the pay is worth it because it’s not#by the time I pay for necessities and take care of gas and all I barely have anything#and I hate mooching off my partner#I feel like this job is disabling me further#i can’t take it anymore#if she weren’t counting on me I’d just quit#I WOULD live in a basement forever if I could be treated like a human actually#I cried in the bathroom for 30 minutes on Monday#and I feel like that’s gonna happen again today#my coworker is always on the phone with her boyfriend in the break room and she’s talking now and it’s taking all of my willpower#to not tell her to shut the fuck up and let us sit in peace#I’m tired and I slept for three hours last night because the damn cat attacked my legs in the middle of the night and my insomnia struck#I’m tired and I’m hungry and unmotivated for life#I’m going to fucking burst at some point today I can feel it
9 notes · View notes
yourheartonfire · 3 years
Text
A continuation of this snippet about naming your robot after your runaway partner-turned-villain. Original prompt from @the-modern-typewriter 's Patreon.
When the antagonist went to check on the protagonist the next day post kidnapping, they weren't sure what to expect but they expected something. Tears, rage, panic, begging...
Instead they found the protagonist propped up against the pillows on the bed, tossing a balled up sock into the mini-cloud of nanos the antagonist had left to guard them. 
The nanos were catching it and throwing it back.
"You left my program in," the protagonist said, not looking at them. They carefully took aim and tossed the sock again. The nanos swarmed in their 'starling' pattern formation, secured the sock and fired it back straight into the protagonist's lap.
"Obviously." The antagonist put down the laptop they'd brought in with them, crossed their arms awkwardly. "Your work was - is - integral to the AI systems."
"But you left the play behaviors in." The protagonist fumbled the sock, their hand a little shaky. Clearly still feeling the aftereffects of the neuro-paralytic. "You could have excised that code. You hated that code."
"I hate you wasting your time and talent on anthropomorphification," the antagonist fired back, relieved to fall back into the old argument. "It's obscene, them making you shape machines into an illusion of life in order to be acceptable to the general public."
"Obscene, huh?" said the protagonist softly. They gave up on the sock, folding their hands in their lap. Still avoiding the antagonist's face. "Too bad we can't all be creatures of perfect logic like you."
The antagonist slid onto the foot of the bed. The protagonist immediately pulled their feet away - one bare, one still socked. The antagonist didn't chase them. Not yet. "I should have expected you to immediately start diagnostics," they murmured.
The protagonist shrugged. "You haven't left me much other enrichment," they said, with a jerk of their chin to the bare cement walls of the makeshift cell the nanos had built. "Not to complain about my own kidnapping, but I did expect a bit more style. An abandoned lighthouse, maybe a gently decaying ancestral mansion? Not locking me in your basement."
"Basement of my ancestral mansion," the antagonist quipped back. The protagonist did not smile, not even slightly. The antagonist cocked their head at their old partner, eying them closely. "Why didn't you tell them? About the fire, about me?"
The protagonist let out a wobbly laugh, clasped their knees tighter to the chest. For the first time they looked at the antagonist, face caught somewhere between love and misery. "Turns out I'm not the creature of pure logic I thought I was either."
"I appreciate your loyalty," the antagonist whispered, wrapping a hand around the protagonist's bare ankle. "For as long as it lasted."
The protagonist jerked away, so hard they almost fell off the bed. "Don't you dare thank me!" they snapped. "I was selfish, and a coward not to tell the truth." They wiped their eyes, raised their chin. "But now the truth is out. They'll find you. Stop you."
The antagonist shook their head. "Not if I destroy them first. If we destroy them first. Please," they added fast, seeing the protagonist about to object. "You know I'm right. That's why you didn't talk."
"No, I-"
The antagonist lunged for them, ignoring the protagonist's flinch in the sheer oxytocin high of touching them again, holding them again, arms wrapped tight about their waist. "We can do everything we dreamed about, change the world, make it better," the antagonist breathed into the protagonist's hair, tracing the shiny burn scars down their neck. "You can blame it all on me, say I threatened you."
"You are threatening me." The protagonist pulled themselves loose. "You've violently kidnapped me. No, [Antagonist]. I love you and I will never, never, never help you kill people, no matter how good your reasoning."
"I'll kill your family," the antagonist blurted out. The protagonist blinked. The antagonist took a breath, tried to slow their own pounding heart. "I said I won't hurt you. I won't. I can't. Even the nanos - I've disabled the defense features on this one. You could attack me, it would just watch. I should have killed you years ago, when you walked in on me faking that stupid lab fire, but..." They swallowed. "But I don't feel the same about your brother in Columbus. Your parents in Tampa. I've never met them. They're just hypotheticals."
The blood had drained from the protagonist's face. The antagonist felt the same way, like the blood was draining from the last chambers of their heart, leaving nothing but ache and ice. There was no coming back from this. They had decided to be okay with that. For the mission.
They stood (and peeling away from the protagonist felt like peeling off their own skin), opened the laptop on the bare plastic desk. "I've loaded in the problem code, the milestones and timelines I expect you to hit. It's slaved to a machine upstairs, so I will be watching you in real time. Any funny business and I'll make you choose my next target. Questions?"
"You said you would never hurt me," the protagonist whispered.
The antagonist swallowed. "Well. We already knew I lie. [Protagonist], keep an eye on them."
The nano swarm gave a pleasing longitudinal wave in acknowledgement. The antagonist shut and locked the door on the two things they loved the most.
188 notes · View notes
hecohansen31 · 5 years
Note
Well I was thinking about a little love triangle btw ivar x reader x Roman...if you would want to write this?! I’m open about anything and would like to see what comes to your mind but i also could give you an imagine idea...whatever you would like more:)
(A/N): Hey, sweetie! 
I kind of had this idea, to explain at least the story behind it (sorry I am sucker for backstories) and I honestly loved writing for these two (although I am sure that I wrote them a bit OOC, and hope it wasn’t rushed).
So I hope that you like it, and will suggest more asks about this couple, because I HAVE IDEAS and now I love my obsessive and jealous assholes with anger issues and mommy issues!
WARNINGS: Mention of Sex (Spoilers of “Vikings” season 5), Anger Issues and Mean Words.
Tumblr media
She and Ivar had been best friends for as much as she could remember.
She basically had been the only child in her neighborhood that didn’t care in the slightest about his disability.
She had actually managed to find a way to work around it and have him play with her, as any normal child and because of that their bond was unbreakable.
And soon what had started as a friendship, had swiftly blossomed in a romance…
… at least on her part.
Ivar was an enigma with his self-conscious tendencies and its way to scream even the harshest words to his most loved ones; and although that hadn’t been enough to make her run away, she still felt extremely insecure about her feeling being reciprocated, no matter how much Hvitserk giggled and gossiped with her about his bother…
… she just didn’t know what she truly was for Ivar.
But that year she had decided to be bold, mostly because her parents had told her that they would be moving for her last year of high school, so she hadn’t much time to spend with him.
But she hoped that eventually that little time would be enough.
She had felt particularly bold for the entirety of the year, but suddenly Ivar disappeared… constantly, whenever she planned her confession.
She wasn’t used to it, and she couldn’t help but hate the way he would constantly bail out every date they programmed, whether it was with just her or even with the brothers, and she couldn’t help but be exhausted by the entire thing.
If he had a problem with her, she preferred he discussed about it with her.
And also, she couldn’t help but feel like the brothers were hiding something to her.
But not for long…
The day of the Summer Solstice, a traditional event for the Lothbrock family, she had presented in her best dress, sure that Ivar wouldn’t be missing that night no matter what and she was determined to let him know that she didn’t see him anymore as a friend.
That she wanted more: to be able to hold his hand, to kiss him and to tease him.
But when she had gone to make the confession, Ivar had stopped her, wanting to reveal his own secret, the reason behind his constant disappearances, and for one minute she had hoped, with the way he had told her that she was truly special and meaningful and that it pained him to keep this a secret for her, that he might have loved her…
… and he had smiled so brightly and…
… she had just broken down, internally when he had moved next to a pretty girl, blonde and definitely what a model looked like, pretty like the sun, with a small devilish smile and beautiful blue eyes, matching Ivar’s one: she was definitely the type of woman that should have been beside Ivar.
Not her, definitely.
-This is Fredys, I have been seeing her for a bit… and…- he was clearly in love with her, watching as the Moon that shine brightly in the sky.
She couldn’t even hold a grudge towards the girl, who immediately went for a hug, almost screeching in her ears, and chanting about how happy she was to meet Ivar’s best friend.
Yeah… his best friend.
She would later, mentally, protest on her stupidity, on her tardiness and on the way she held onto hope.
She held onto the thought that maybe Ivar felt something more, and the dread of feeling her love was unrequited… shut her down completely.
She hadn’t talked with the Lothbrock for the rest of the summer.
She couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the brothers, who were supposed to her friends who told her nothing about it, breaking her faith and loyalty.
She had moved at the start of the high school year, without letting others know, ignoring Ivar, not that he had searched her much after he had Fredys, with whom she couldn’t even be mad, since the girl was lovely and nice and she just hoped she would treat Ivar gently.
High school was tough, not only because she was new, but also because, no matter how much Ivar had hurt her, she couldn’t help but miss him.
College helped her a lot and the little job she had managed to get in order to support herself, made her feel occupied enough that relationships, broken hearts and lovers didn’t interest her in the slightest.
That was true, till she had met Roman Godfrey, the one celebrity of Hemlock Grove, the owner of the “White Tower”, asshole extraordinaire, handsome playboy and constant client at the little coffee shop she worked at.
Roman constantly taunted her, at first his flirting had been very annoying, but slowly it had downed to a sweet teasing and everyone on the bar had bets on who would end up asking the other out first, if they managed a date, before they feel into each other’s bed.
She honestly was a bit scared and had still Ivar in her heart.
It almost felt as cheating to accept Roman’s courting, no matter the fact that she liked the gentleness and the cockiness of the elegant man, who charmed her with sweet words, generous tips and on her birthday (he had learned it through Destiny, a fellow barista) flowers, sunflowers, her favorite.
Slowly, slowly she had found herself forgetting about the bound with Ivar, although he still had a part of her heart, no matter what, and she had allowed herself to jump into bed with Roman.
“I don’t want nothing serious” she had mumbled, meanwhile she undid the buttons of his silky shirts, looking at him in those devilish green eyes “… we are not a couple, we just fuck and enjoy each other’s teasing, got me?”.
Roman had just kissed her on the mouth and with time, she had found herself to be the first one to catch feeling: not only the sex was amazing (and the fact that he was one of her first partners didn’t help) but Roman sure knew how to make a woman feel special.
If she had loved Ivar as a first and eternal love, she loved Roman the more she knew about him, the more darkness she dove in.
So, she was thankful each time Roman would suggest that she became his “plus one” at any kind of event, which meant luxurious one, where she would be wearing elegant clothes and nice lingerie under it.
“It doesn’t break our rules” he affirmed, almost as if he wanted to instead confirm the contrary, daring her to reveal each of her feelings “We are not a couple… we are just two friends who occasionally fuck and sometimes… we have accompany each other to mundane events”.
He then felinely grabbed her legs and pushed a hand on them, slowly tracing it till it reached her inner thighs and lightly slapped down there.
“… get ready, wouldn’t want to be late!”
She hadn’t expected to find Ivar again, in one of those events: she hadn’t certainly let Ivar out of her life and she knew that he was also a millionaire exactly like Roman, too young and too much money, but he usually worked outside of America, since he had taken over his father’s agency.
So, she hadn’t expected to see him in the small and lifeless Hemlock Grove.
She had been standing alone, after Roman had promised her a glass of champagne, mostly checking out around herself before a shaky hand was gently put on her shoulder and she turned around, thinking that it might have been Roman’s joke, just to be met with ice-blue eyes, and not leaf-green ones.
-(Y/N)? – he had seemed surprised enough that she had thought she was herself a ghost.
-Ivar- her tone was much calmer and it didn’t hold the same surprise of his, she tried to keep it calm and under control, trying to be the bigger person -… long time no see-.
-You sure have grown up- he breathed out, taking her in further and she couldn’t help the little blush that spread across her face.
-Yeah it’s been a lot- five years, three months and twenty days…
She hadn’t counted each day.
-You moved and didn’t tell us anything- his tone was suddenly betrayed and she could totally see a rage attack come over him and she couldn’t help but bring her arms around her body, in order to shield herself, just to have another pair of arms do the same, and softly Roman purring in her ear.
-Is everything alright, lovely? – he asked, sending Ivar an annoyed look, clearly considering him a cockroach under his shoe, and Ivar replied with a rageful gaze, his fist coming at his sides.
-Yeah yeah- she reassured Roman, pushing herself away from his hold, finding herself uncomfortable with affection like that: that was why she had had trouble into letting Roman be with her.
She hadn’t forgotten Ivar, no matter what.
-… Lothbrock, do you have some business with my girl? – proceeded to ask Roman, immediately respecting your space, although you knew with the way his voice sounded and he was hurt.
-Your girl just distanced yourself from you, so… I don’t think she is… anymore- Ivar replied, viciously, and she just shot him a warning glance, telling him not to step further -… but she used to be my best friend-.
-Ohh, you were in the friendzone, weren’t you Lothbrok? – made fun of him Roman, and she immediately pushed an hand on Ivar’s chest to stop him (she couldn’t help but love the fact that his chest hadn’t become less firm in the years they had spent apart).
-Go to Hell, Godfrey- he simply replied, meanwhile she led him away from the crowd.
-What the hell has taken you, Ivar? - she asked once they were outside; she was shivering miserably in her low-cute dress, but an angry Ivar was a time-bomb and Roman was worse than gasoline, when he wanted to.
-What about you, (Y/N)?! – he replied, angrily, meanwhile she rolled her eyes -… you leave and never come back, without telling nothing…! And don’t answer texts…! It’s like you disappeared off the face of Earth! -.
She knew that if she hadn’t been through the heartbreak she had been and without the personal growth she had gone through, she would have just asked for Ivar’s forgiveness, but she wasn’t that girl anymore, no matter her feelings for him… he needed to hear something, the truth.
-Oh, sorry, Ivar…- her voice was so sarcastic that Ivar flinched at the tone -… but I honestly didn’t think that you cared in the slightest, since you spent all the year AVOIDING ME-.
She had been scared that he might have been the one to do a scene, but apparently… it was her.
He looked at her shocked, probably unused to her sass.
-… you literally not only did that, but you know what got me even more angry? YOU DID IT FOR A GIRL! – she took a deep breath, much to regain her voice after the scream than to give Ivar a break -… I never let a boy come between us, not that there would have been, because I liked you, but…-.
She couldn’t keep going, because of the truth she had spit out.
But could you blame her? It had been on the point of her tongue for so long…
… and now it was out.
-(Y/N)… I …- but before he could say anything, she run away, as fast as she could and when she moved inside, to grab quickly her coat, she was met with Roman’s broad chest and although he looked a bit angered, he seemed worried for her, but she was in too much panic.
-… Earth to (Y/N)… is everything ok? – he asked, pushing her chin up to check her face, as if he was expecting bruises -… did Lothbrock hurt you? -.
-No, Ivar would never hurt me- it was one of the few things she knew; Ivar could scream at her and be all enraged but he would never hurt her, even playfully -… but I am tired and I prefer to go home-.
-I can escort you, home, this event was boring…- he suggested, gently putting an hand over her hipbone, which made her react roughly, pushing herself away from his hold and seeing he hurt in his eyes.
-I prefer to go home, alone- and then she bit her lip, trying her best to find a way to lessen Roman’s bad mood -… I am sorry-.
-He is the one who broke your heart, isn’t he? – he asked, meanwhile he scratched her head -… I kind of thought that you might just be playing hard to get, but you are truly broken-.
The words were meant to bring her to her knees, to hurt her and before she knew it, she had slapped Roman’s smirk off his face, and she stumped out of the ballroom, screaming in his direction.
-Never contact me again, ASSHOLE! -.
The following day she awoke at noon, after she had cried out her entire heart a bit out of anger and bit out of pure sadness, at the simple thought that she might have fucked up each of her relationships.
An headache was storming in her head, so she didn’t dare get out of her little apartment, meanwhile her roommate tried to get her up, in the end leaving her there, with a tray of breakfast next to her bed, and pushed her phone near the night stand, in order for the girl to finally “shut him up” since it had been bleeping and trilling for the entire morning.
She had expected Roman’s calls, and she felt extremely good ignoring them, but the unknown number which presented himself as Ivar was something she hadn’t thought about, mostly because she hoped that he would be off for good after that night.
She had scared him enough with both her screams and her confessions, but she couldn’t help but be curious about the messages he had sent her.
At first they were simply just “I am sorry” and “It’s me Ivar, your hot grumpy boyfriend gave me your number” “No I didn’t beat him up for it” (she almost laughed at it) “… and I didn’t know you felt that way”, she just replied quickly with a “Hello, there and I am glad you didn’t beat him”, she was halfway through mentioning the “I like you” confession… but before she could there came a knock from her door, and she just simply rolled off, since it was either some marketer or just Roman.
She didn’t know which option was worse.
She simply rolled onto her side, and gently focused on the screen and Ivar’s icon appeared changed with the writing “is writing” and soon there was his reply “… I mean… I don’t think that he wanted to beat a cripple so… you know there is an advantage into being one”.
She couldn’t help but feel fifteen again, when her and Ivar would chat back and forth, with him making fun of disability and hers chastising him for her; it wasn’t so difficult to move onto that complicity again, and she realized that nothing had changed.
That she still loved him.
In her attempt to ignore Roman, who had with no delicacy shouted her to let him in, she just decided to continue to chat with Ivar, since it was something that made her feel better, although she was bit too pissed with both of them.
“… the thing with Freydis ended” she honestly hadn’t asked nothing about it, but Ivar seemed to bring it up naturally “… she kind of… it is very fucked up to say, but she… cheated on me and I was almost a father to child that wasn’t mine… Gosh that is fucked up”.
She hadn’t known about this, mostly because as soon as anything talked about her and her relationship with Ivar she started to read away, not out of disrespect to the woman, but more out of respect for her heart.
So, she had no idea, and her heart couldn’t help but clench at that news.
“I am extremely sorry, Ivar” she simply, messaged, knowing perfectly that it had probably hurt even more because she wasn’t there with him.
“She wasn’t my match, definitely” he simply replied, but she knew that he harbored much more “… and I have to talk about something with you, and I don’t think that I can do it on the phone”.
And then a message followed:
“Can I come over?”.
She had to wait something like a quarter of an hour, before hearing Roman greet Ivar roughly, and Ivar just huffed, hence, it was her cue to welcome her guests.
“I am not talking with him near me” Ivar protested and Roman just rolled his eyes as if to say “likewise”.
“I have a storming headache, because I have been crying about you two, so I am not giving yo the luxury to choose”
And then she strutted into the kitchen, after she had thrown out her roommate’s cold tea, to make a new one, and two coffees.
Soon she heard grumbling and Roman was showing Ivar the place where he could leave the jacket, meanwhile he pulled a chair out for himself, stretching his long legs, meanwhile he sent her a dirty look, mostly due to her wearing a nightgown he had gifted her.
“It was cold, outside” he mumbled, just as Ivar joined them, stumbling a bit awkwardly on his crutch.
“… I didn’t think that your cold heart felt coldness” she replied, pointedly, earning Ivar’s laugh “… and don’t you dare laugh, I am pretty curious about knowing how you managed to get my number without fighting someone”.
Both the men sat down, with their tails between their legs, and waited to raise their heads till she put the coffee in front of them: Roman’s black, Ivar’s with too much sugar.
Waiting for them to speak up.
Ivar seemed at unease so Roman went first:
“I am sorry for those horrible things I told you, last night” he lowered his head, before hitting her with those guilty green eyes “…I was scared, because I was jealous, I mean… he is quite handsome, if you put something in his mouth”.
Immediately, Ivar almost went to hit him, but was stopped from a pointed glance of hers.
“It was stupid, childish and irresponsible” he pointed each word with meaning and she couldn’t help but hold out an hand which he kissed tenderly.
And this got Ivar to act up, pushing her attention away from him, when he started confessing.
“I am sorry for ignoring you for an entire year… I…” he looked around, before letting out a meaningful breath “… actually have had a crush on you for the longest, but you never acted out on it, so I thought I was indeed on the ‘friendzone’ “.
Roman didn’t laugh just because he threatened with his eyes.
“Freydis was a simple filler, I thought she might help me to forget you, but once you went away, you probably brought my heart with you”.
She was a bit teary and shushed the tears turning around to check the teas, before pouring it into a cup, sitting in front of the two awaiting males.
“I know this will sound stupid…” because it wasn’t something that was said useful “… you both broke my heart”.
She sipped her tea, to leave out a dramatic pause, eyeing with her side-eye the two males, who were holding a grudge against each other.
“… but… for some fucked up way… I really really like you two, both” they looked at her incredulous “… without Ivar, I wouldn’t have met you Roman: you helped me seeing the world and that there is love even after an heartbreak, I wouldn’t seriously be the woman I am now”.
She gently caressed Roman’s face, who leaned into her touch, but before Ivar could be left out she did the same to his face, leaning in for a long awaited first kiss:
“… but without Roman, I wouldn’t have met you again and you are my first love, the one I won’t be able to forget no matter how many years pass, you’ll always own a part of my heart”.
She felt him melt on her lips, and Roman gripped a bit more forcefully her hand, searching her look.
“You want us both?” he asked, curious “… I didn’t think that you would be into this, greedy girl”.
Ivar just mumbled:
“I don’t like this, and I don’t like him” but it just took him a nice smile from her, and another kiss to loosen the grudge he owned “I don’t like sharing what is mine”.
“… I think that the word you are looking for Lothbrock is ‘ours’ “.
“Say that again, Godfrey and I will slit your throat in your sleep”.
“Kinky…”.
Well they certainly had their way to get along.
Even more when she just huffed, exiting the kitchen, and they both sent her questioning glazes… before she elegantly slipped off her panties from under her nightgowns, leaving them on the carpet.
They almost got into another fight for that trophy.
But she got the final prize.
108 notes · View notes
salve-teff · 6 years
Text
Four’s is the (actual) charm
I'm late (even though, it's still Sep 10th). Sorry, this is crap, but this crap was the best I could do with the nasty block I've been having recently.
(I’m also posting this on AO3 with the same title, just in case, and because.)
Pairing: Jeith/Jaith. James x Keith Rating: Gen. Warnings: Kind fo Angsty Word Count: 2492 Summary: 4 slips. It was all it took, four fateful slips coming from him to change the stability of his life and the rhythm of his heart.
James and Keith Week.
Day 1. Competition / Co-operation / Confessions.
It was not a thing he had planned at all. It just … sort of happened. Keith was stupid, and James was so infatuated with the emo boy he’s known almost all his life.
For years now, he thought that Keith hated him, ever before the orphan incident. It wasn’t an incident; James had been a jerk, and he admitted it. He even apologized later on … in his own way, but he did.
Even though Keith never actually hated him, his walls were way too up for him to reach, and James didn’t know how to climb at the time. Nowadays, he still had no idea how to climb, but he had sufficiently learned enough patience to find other ways up.
There’s always been this rivalry going on, and he treasured it more than anything else. It was what kept them in the same wavelength.
That made James thought that he and Keith were the perfect complement, like better halves. While Keith Kogane was a natural, James worked hard. Keith was reckless, and James was composed. James followed rules, Keith followed his instincts. Where Keith missed a family; James had to live with the expectations of his.
There were stolen glances and hidden smirks after simulations. Unorthodox motivations were left whenever any of them didn’t manage an excellent grade.
James Griffin could alphabetize all of their pushes throughout their Garrison days. The list was long and it would take him a few days, but he could do it.
Then, this Lance boy came in; and self-proclaimed himself Keith’s rival, and James was not having it.
James snorted when he next spotted the Cuban, it was so easy to set him off if he was being honest. And it was easier for James to get closer to Keith to reel the boy. He might have let them all know at the Garrison his sentiments while making his point clear to McClain.
In all honesty, to throw little McClain under the train in front of the cafeteria was not one of his most brilliant moments. It was something only a bully would do. But he had had enough!
“If you manage to be cargo pilot that’d be your most exceptional achievement,” James said sourly. His book was clenched against his torso. “To proclaim yourself Keith’s rival? Ha,” he arched a brow incredulously. “Keith only deserves the best, and that is not you.”
Thinking back to that time, James wasn’t nice, and his actual self would like to punch his past-self hard in the face. No one accused him of nothing, he didn’t break any rules, so he was fine to let his mouth run out.
After all, Keith deserved the best, and James was the best. The only person fitted to be his rival was him.
That was his first slip. (And it didn’t end that day, but continued even when, said boy decided to badmouth the best pilot the Garrison has had in so long. No one called Keith Kogane a drop out or other unpleasant things. If that lower range pilot thought he was Keith’s rival, then he should learn rivals are supposed to respect each other.)
If the violet eyes of Keith followed him curiously for a week after that, he didn’t care enough to acknowledge them.
Second slip.
It happened the day Keith was expelled from the Garrison.
He had run all the way to Keith’s room, he was out of breath and wanted answers. There must be something they could do to avoid it.
He found Keith packing his his few possessions, there was a knife in his hand. James’ heart was drumming in his dull ears, he knew Keith, right? He wouldn’t…? He saw with relief how the boy exhaled and set it aside, next to the rest of his belongings.
The exact words he said he could not remember, he felt terribly embarrassed at the moment that his brain decided to shut part of that memory. He had practically declared to him, that he recalled. And the jerk merely accepted it as a friend-foe thing.
Keith had a bitter smirk on his face as he told him they’d have another chance to race in the future. (Those last words of him, he knew they weren’t meant for him.)
'I should be happy, finally, I'm Galaxy Garrison's number one pilot and outstanding student.' He thought bitterly. His family was going to be ecstatic but he still felt empty. Without Keith there, who would provide him with the motivation to go on? Who was going to push and pull at his side?
Keith.
Where would Keith go? He had no one outside the walls of the Garrison. He was too old to go back to the home. Who would look out for him in dire moments? Where was Shiro, his protector? Shiro, it all happened because of Shiro and the undying loyalty Keith had on him.
James cried uncontrollably that raw night because not only Keith Kogane was the most oblivious and emotional constipated person he knew, but also because he was no one when compared Takashi Shirogane. And of course, Keith would go out looking for the best.
James not only felt heartbroken and abandoned, but he felt inferior. All their lives, James Griffin and Keith Kogane had been equals, but that day, Keith’s controversial departure made James feel like he was nothing but another cadet at the Garrison.
Third slip.
The day Sam Holt started the MFE’s program. James felt he was doing that for Keith, his family, and Earth.
When the information about Keith (and the others’) whereabouts came to his ears to hear. James breathed again, for he was going to fight side by side with him, and a new path was going to be forged for them.
But of course, that was Keith Fucking Kogane he was thinking about. He wasn’t sure of what Space magic happened to him, but he was different. Not only physically. James could sense a new … something in him. He couldn’t explain it; he just knew he wanted the Leader of Voltron to look his way, which he did.
That didn’t end up well, for James just walked away. What was he supposed to say after so many years?
“My problem is,” James confronted. “I don’t want to see our only hope for saving Earth get hurt.” He smirked a distinctive Keith kind of smirk. “That’s why we’re coming with you.”
For all one knows it could've been a hallucination, or maybe Keith’s visible expression softened at that. Truth is he was too scared to find out. Especially when he realized, a few days later—while he was piloting with Keith in order to get the Lions— that he may have declared it while he locked eyes with Keith.
He didn’t want the paladins of Voltron to get hurt; that was genuine. Deep down he undoubtedly knew he had meant that specifically, if not only, for Keith Kogane.
He also realized just how well he knew the leader of Voltron. Because for what other reason would he be waiting for him —and Hunk—in the hangar with Veronica, if he didn’t already know Keith’s tendency to defy curfew.
The trip to retrieve the Lions wasn’t awkward at first, now it felt like a torturous journey.
The good thing was they weren’t a pair to talk much. And even if they were, the situation was too tense for them to want to engage in any kind of small talk.
Fourth slip.
The invasion came to an end. Earth won.
James had no time to celebrate their victory, for he knew it had been a victory for them, but Voltron kept on fighting. Keith and the others were still out there fighting, and their destiny depended on them.
And once the battle of Earth was done for good … James and the rest froze as they watched Voltron fall. Atlas could do nothing to avoid it, the Lions crashed hard in different places.
For the first time in his life, James intentionally broke formation. He went on as fast as the thrusters allowed him to, he needed to instantly reach the Black Lion. His throat was closed and he was sweating. His stomach told him to turn around and go back to the base, but his hands kept the course to Keith.
He arrived late to where the Black Lion was. The engines were off, and a massive crater cradle the head of Voltron. James was late, he didn’t know if Keith was still alive or … he shook those thoughts out of his head. Shiro was there already—of course, he’d be. James remained in standby.
The Paladins of Voltron were alive, all of them. Ones more stable than the others, but alive was a good thing.
James liked going to Keith’s hospital room every once in a while—
Three or four times a day. Rizavi had counted them—but the leader hadn’t woken up yet. Soon enough, wormholes started to open and the destroyed streets of Earth were occupied by aliens, members of the Coalition and more.
A tall, physically strong and ... purple woman was inside of Keith’s room. He looked at her and swore that if he weren’t gay, he’d be crushing on her hard. She was seated on the bed next to the sleeping paladin.
Was she a member of the Blade of Marmora? That group Keith joined a long time ago and held the secret to his past.
Realization hit him hard. They might have won a battle, but he knew they’ll part ways once again for their foe was still roaming the Galaxy. Either he left with Voltron of the Blade; Keith was slipping through his fingers.
James choked on a high pitched sob, thing that made the woman turn to look at him. Her yellow eyes, soft while staring at the sleeping man in bed, turned sharp. “Are you one of my son’s friends?” She asked him, tone wary. James lost his words; he nodded, nonetheless.
His affirmative answer made her relax in the same way Keith always did. Stiff shoulders became slightly slouched, sharp eyes softened a little, and her face turned a few degrees like a curious cat would.
She was definitely Keith’s mom, and she was an alien.
James left the hospital room baffled, it had been rude, he didn’t even introduce himself to the woman nor he got her name. He should apologize later, at that moment James needed space to breathe.
James Griffin didn’t show up again near his rival’s room. He heard the news; he had woken up, and he was glad for that. He still visited the Hospital. He just didn’t approach that specific corridor.
The feeling of uneasiness was still nagging at him. He’d made up his mind, though. Wherever Voltron headed, he was going with them.
He was an MFE’s pilot, therefore, he was part of the Coalition. The news about Keith’s alien heritage wasn’t that hard to swallow, he had always thought there was something special about the leader of the paladins. Keith was a genius, he was not going to deny that, but … it was just, so many things made sense now.
The Galaxy Garrison offered an elaborate ceremony and a small banquet after the full recovery of their saviors. That was precisely the moment James instantly saw Keith again.
He was standing tall with his mom and the other alien that never left their side. Captain Shirogane was with them, and James just kept walking soberly toward them, toward Keith Kogane. He had so much to say, and if he didn’t say it at that moment, he feared he wouldn’t be able to do so ever again.
But, the moment he was face to face with the Black paladin, he said nothing.
Something in his mind screamed ‘Fuck it!’ so he grabbed Keith by the collar of his Garrison uniform and pulled him in for a kiss.
He kissed Keith. At the Garrison Ceremony, in front of everybody … in front of Captain Shirogane, in front of his alien mother … he kissed Keith to all the Galaxy to see.
And Holy shit! Keith’s mom was an alien! Not only that, but she was part of the race that tried to conquer them. And she was insanely tall and strong.
James gulped, he was no match for that.
He promptly broke the kiss, he didn’t think all of that through. He was in deep shit, now that he thought about that. And Keith wasn’t saying a single word, the bastard only had his head tilted like a cat.
“Mom,” Keith said softly. He never spoke that soft, not even to Shiro. “This is James,” Keith’s lips drew the most cunning and insufferable smirk he’s seen in his life.
“Mhmm,” was all the alien … Keith’s mom said. She was eyeing him. So did the other one, the furry one with the braid.
It was then it occurred to him that the way Keith introduced him sounded as if he had already talked about him. James Griffin was royally screwed.
The taller alien walked fearlessly toward him. They were face to face, it was more like face to mighty chest, that man was huge. James gulped once again, he looked over at Keith, who was still smirking.
“Next time,” started the man, his voice was deep and authoritarian. “Bring a high-quality blade.”
“Kolivan,” said gently Keith’s mom. “This is Earth. They don’t give blades for courting.” She let out a small laugh, “I should know, Keith’s father freaked out when I tried giving him one.”
“It is a sacred tradition, Krolia,” the furry alien responded. Keith was still laughing.
James was so confused, he didn’t know what was happening. Technically he properly understood the conversation; he was not stupid. But the background of it all was confusing. He looked wonderingly at Keith for proper answers.
“In Galra, when you are courting someone you should bring a blade with you.” Keith saved his poor brain for going into overdrive. James blinked a few times. “I don’t really need it. This is the boldest thing you’ve done so far."
He choked on his own saliva. “You knew?”
“You weren’t exactly subtle,” Keith answered. “I was waiting for the day you’d say it properly.”
“Say what?” James growled.
“That you liked me,” Keith strategically placed his muscled arm around James’ neck, it was Keith’s turn to pull him in for a fervent kiss.
Wolf-whistles were heard here and there.
They carefully broke the kiss the moment they realized there were more people around them.
“How was that a proper confession?” James couldn’t help the nervous laugh escaping his lips. He settled his evident embarrassment aside.
“I’m half Galra and an active member of the Blade of Marmora,” Keith said as if it would explain everything. “Even the smallest victory is worth it.”
“My mom is not going to believe my in-laws are aliens."
22 notes · View notes
Text
Through With Games (Part 2) - A Klance College Football AU Not-Fic
As it says on the tin, this is part 2.  You can find Part 1 HERE  There will be one more part after this.  I was trying to keep it at 2, but i didn’t want to not post an update after where I left off yesterday, but I’m still not quite happy with the end, so this is my compromise.  Ok, carry on...
When Keith tells Lance to transfer, it destroys Lance.  Completely.
He thinks about just quitting, because what's the point of playing at all if he's that bad?  He knew Keith had been mostly just humoring him, letting Lance hang around so he could see all the ways he’d never measure up.  And the fact that Lance was easy for him, never minded putting out, probably didn’t hurt.  He knew eventually Keith - and the rest of the team by extension - would get fed up with him, he’d just thought it would be something more along the lines of getting cut or encouraging him to quit.  He’d expected them to want him gone, but he hadn’t thought that would mean to a whole new school.  But Keith told him to transfer, so he must still have just enough interest in Lance to want to see him humiliate himself at another school.  So that's what he does - because fuck knows he’s never figured out how to deny Keith anything.
It feels like the right choice when he goes to talk to his head coach and the coach doesn’t even argue.  When he tells the team, none of their reactions are surprising.  Lance could have told you ahead of time which ones of his teammates were nice enough guys to make noise about being sad to see him go, which ones were even solid enough dudes to wish him well at the new school.  He could have also told you that the number of those would be much smaller than the number who just didn’t give a fuck.  He would have been right.  There’s only two things about the entire ordeal that are surprising.  One is that Keith doesn’t look nearly as happy as Lance thought he would when he makes the announcement, and Lance just doesn’t know what to make of that.
The other, is that a school with a much better football program than he expected wants him.  His instinctual reaction is to reject the offer because he doesn’t think he could handle disappointing another team with such high (and unfounded) expectations on him.  But the coach spends a lot of time talking to him and convincing him that he just wants to give Lance a shot, with no expectations looming, and Lance is just desperate enough to get out that he accepts.
Until the transfer is official, he stews in replays of his most negative thoughts pretty much in a loop - with some of his other worst failures sprinkled in for variety every now and then.  Transferring feels like giving up and admitting what a failure he is - something he’d privately acknowledged months ago - but now everyone, his family, the public, what few friends he has left, would know.  And worse than all that might be the way Keith cut him lose so easily - dumped him from his bed just as easily as he dumped him from his team.  It’s not like they’d made any promises or anything, and Lance had known he wasn’t the same thing to Keith as Keith was to him, but it still hurt.  It still ached to think that the one thing Lance thought he was good enough at, had some value for, didn’t mean enough to Keith to continue even when Lance did what he asked and transferred.  Keith couldn’t even give him the last few weeks of pretending like Lance wasn’t entirely disposable before he left so that Lance didn’t have to feel so utterly useless.  
The terrible thoughts, and the self-loathing, and the emptiness won’t quit.  They keep eating and eating at Lance, tearing the skin from his bones so that it feels like he’s consuming himself and there will never be a way out of this suffocating panic and helplessness.  It builds and builds until it reaches a fever pitch and culminates with him huddling on the floor entirely underneath the bed in his dorm room contemplating swallowing a handful of pills he can't identify from that shady guy that sits in the back of his gender studies class just to perv on the lesbians.
And it suddenly just occurs to him that this is not normal.  That ordinary doubt didn't do this to people.  Healthy amounts of anxiety didn’t make a person feel like they couldn’t breathe.  He knew he hadn’t always hated himself or felt so worthless and he wasn’t quite sure how he’d let that change so drastically.  But he did know that he doesn’t want to be like this anymore.
Although changing is easier said than done.  He realizes he might actually need some professional help.  He talks to his family and they are incredibly supportive.  And he talks to the coach of his new team and he genuinely cares more about helping Lance than if Lance ever helps him win any football games.  He also sets Lance up with a fantastic therapist who is approximately 5 feet tall and 100 years old but also the most badass woman Lance has ever met (just don't tell his mom).  And for the first time in a very long time Lance actually feels something like hope wriggling beneath his breastbone.
Through a liberal application of therapy and finding an antidepressant that works well for him, and the fact that the coach decides to consult the therapist Lance sees about better locker room and team practices to promote good mental health and reduce stress and anxiety for the whole team, Lance does get better.  It doesn't happen overnight, and he still has good days and bad, but he does.
***
Six weeks after Keith’s stupid enough to tell Lance to transfer, the love of his life is playing for another school.  He’s their starter and the rush of both pride and longing that news gives Keith makes him physically ill, and he has to blink back the spots in his vision before he can continue reading the article.  That first time seeing Lance in someone else’s colors is hard (although he always had look much better in blue than he had in red, Keith will admit) but once he moves past it, Keith can’t quit obsessing over it.  He devours any and all reports about the team, he records their televised games and watches them later, and toward the end of the season, he probably knows Lance’s stats better than his own.  
He’s glad to see that Lance is playing like Keith had always known he was capable of, but what Keith really can’t get enough of is his smile.  Keith doesn’t think he ever saw Lance smile like that the entire time they were on the same team.  He looks loose and easy on the sidelines, laughing with teammates - especially the big Center all the fans just call “Hunk” - he’s relaxed and takes just the right amount of responsibility for bad plays without sounding like he’s beating himself up in interviews.  He seems confident and happy and so much like the leader of his team that it makes Keith feel like his heart might beat out of his chest when he looks at him.  He’s so beautiful now that he’s come into his own, more so than Keith ever could have imagined.  And while it makes Keith ache to reach out, to be allowed to touch him again, even just once more - he knows what his role in all this is, and he’ll play it to the end of time if it means knowing that this happy, healthy, confident version of Lance is out there in the world.  He’ll keep being the asshole that Lance wouldn’t even speak to, the bully that Lance refused to make eye contact with, the villain of the story as long as Lance ends up the hero.  Even if he holds the hope that he might have a chance to have that Lance standing beside him one day somewhere deep in his heart.
***
Time keeps passing, as it’s given to do, and they both continue to move forward with their lives.  Neither forgets each other, forgets their feelings for each other, but time and distance make those feelings easier to live with and the burden of carrying them around everyday feel lighter.  Other concerns pop up to demand their attention - classes, practices, big games, friends, holidays - the life of a student athlete is never dull.  It gets to a point where they no longer think about each other daily, their “break-up” no longer feels so raw, and the ache they feel for each other starts to feel more like a deep bruise than a phantom limb.
The season ends, off-season training begins, and before either of them know it, a new season begins.  The Saturday night in late October where their teams are scheduled to play each other looms ahead, circled on both their calendars.
***
The idea that he’s going to have to play against his old school, against Keith, is a vague tickle in the back of Lance’s mind all season.  He knows it’s going to happen, and he’s anxious about it - in what his therapist assures him is a healthy way, though - but that’s more about playing against guys he knows, that know his strengths and weaknesses so well, about looking out at the D-line and not seeing opponents but guys he’s gotten passed out drunk at keggers with or helped with Spanish homework.  He’s grateful however to discover that he feels no qualms over the idea of beating the stuffing out of them if his new team is able to.  There’s no question of loyalty - respect for all his teammates, current and former - demand he give the game his all.  He knows his former team wouldn’t want him to take it easy on him, and Lance doesn’t want that either.  And if he’s honest with himself he wants the chance to face off against Keith in an honest competition
In comparison to the game, Lance actually expects seeing Keith again to be easy.  The absence of the pseudo-relationship he had with Keith still feels like a gaping chest wound sometimes, but he also misses the friendship they shared, and really he just misses him in general.  Seeing him really won’t be painful other than that momentary twinge when he’s hit with the want for more but once that passes it will be so good to see him.  Because now that his mental state is improving, he's starting to realize what a good friend Keith had been to him his whole time at his former school, gets now how much Keith had done to try to push Lance off his self destructive path.  As much as the night he’d suggested Lance transfer had hurt, Lance is almost grateful for it in retrospect and he suspects that Keith may not have been doing it out of ill-will.
That was a slow realization based on reexamining his entire "relationship" with Keith.  In the beginning, he’d fixated on that one event, obsessed over Keith telling him to leave, and convinced himself that it was malicious on Keith’s part.  Then, when he'd started thinking more clearly and was out of the worst throes of his depression, he felt like that was so out of character for Keith, and the idea really bothered him.  
Lance fully admits that his own poor opinion of himself often led to him having a pretty low opinion of Keith at times - often unfairly so.  Keith was sarcastic, and could be kind of a self-absorbed dick, but he was never cruel.  He'd never once tried to belittle Lance or hurt his feelings before that night, and Lance couldn't quit thinking about why that had changed.  What had pushed Keith to lash out, was it lingering guilt and anger over getting ejected from the game, or was it something Lance had done?  Had he felt threatened?  How could he not have known that Lance had never intended to challenge Keith for his spot as the starter?
The endless stream of questions Lance had about that one night led him to digging deeper into all of his and Keith’s interactions.  He was desperate to solve the mystery of Keith’s behavior and he figured Keith’s past behavior was the only other evidence he was going to get on the matter.  So he'd started thinking about all the other things Keith said to him -  all the times Keith encouraged him and Lance thought it was pity, all the times Keith wouldn't let him get too down on himself and Lance thought it was because Keith didn't want to be drug down to that place too.  
All the times Keith tried to show Lance he saw him as something worthwhile, and possibly even important to him.
It all started to add up to a bigger picture for Lance, that maybe he overreacted and missed something that night, that maybe he’d been missing things when it came to Keith from the very beginning.  He had no idea what any of it meant, it wasn’t possible to figure something like that out entirely on his own and he'd need Keith to explain it to him, but he finally realized that Keith may not have meant what Lance had originally thought and he recognized that he deliberately hadn't given Keith any opportunities to explain, just accepted his own potentially faulty conclusions.  He now desperately wants an explanation.  He wants to know if he’s maybe still reading things all wrong when it comes to Keith.
Which is why the first time he sees Keith after he transfers is rough, because Lance is not expecting Keith to treat him the way he does.  They meet up with a few other friends in tow to hang out the night before the game and Lance is expecting a little awkwardness, and having to pull Keith aside for a private conversation where they both say there’s no hard feelings and then things will go back to being easy with him, the way they always were with Keith.  Only, Keith is acting like Lance is always two seconds away from punching him.  He’s acting like he needs to be so careful of what he says to Lance, what he jokes about - all of his biting wit and acidic sarcasm are gone and he sits at the table like a spectral haunting of himself.
Keith is acting so guilty, like he did something wrong and like he expects Lance to hate him or something and Lance just doesn't know how to react to that at all because it's the one reaction he didn't anticipate - and consequently, didn't prepare for - at all.  And it’s the one reaction that could have possibly made him start rethinking all the conclusions he’d come to.  Why would Keith act guilty if he didn’t have something to feel guilty about?
The whole night is awkward and weird and does not go well at all.  Keith avoids letting Lance get any time to talk privately and subsequently they don’t work anything out between them.  Lance hadn't been deluded enough to go into it thinking that they might go back to being fuck buddies, or sorta-dating, or whatever it was they'd been doing, but he'd fully expected them to go back to being friends without any problems.  But maybe he’d been naive to think he could have even that with Keith.  He walks away from that first time thinking that they may not even be able to stay friends and that kind of fucks him up a little because Keith is just so damn important to him.  
So he brings it up at his next therapy appointment and his therapist encourages him to reach out to Keith to see if the friendship can be salvaged.  With her encouragement, it’s somehow easy for Lance to call him.  He starts the way he should have the other night, when they were together face to face, by telling Keith he's not bitter about the transfer or angry with the other quarterback at all (even though Lance’s team did lose by 7 when they played).  Lance lets him know about how much better he's doing and about the help he's getting and how it's working for him and getting him to a place where he’s happy with himself again.
***
Keith almost doesn’t answer when Lance calls.  He’s so scared that this is going to be Lance telling him that they can’t hang out anymore, that just seeing Keith, even if Keith never spoke to him or tried to act like they were okay, or pretend like nothing happened, had made Lance sick.  His hand is trembling when he presses the phone to his ear and he almost passes out in relief when Lance just starts with “hey, man.”
The conversation that follows is mostly pleasant, if a little awkward in places.  But any and all discomfort is worth it to hear about how Lance is recovering from his depression.  It fills Keith with so much joy to know that Lance is getting help, has a support system, and really, truly, finally believes that no one expects him to be perfect all the time - that he can fail and there will still be people there to love him and help him back up to face the next hurdle.  Keith wants so badly to be one of those people, but he doesn’t think he has the right to ask for that.  He had his chance to be close to Lance and he couldn’t make the most of it.  He’s just so grateful that Lance is willing to talk to him at all.
Then Lance shocks the hell out of him by telling Keith that he was probably the first true friend Lance ever had, and he was the only friend he had at his former school.  He tells Keith he misses that, misses him, and that he really wants to try to be friends again.  Keith’s pretty sure he sets new land-speed records with how quickly he agrees.  
After that it’s easy.  Keith expected to have to work at it, but knowing Lance considered him a good friend, knowing that he missed having him there makes it so easy for Keith to tell him how much he missed Lance too and how glad he is that Lance is getting the help he needs.  It’s so easy to tell him how no one here gets him the way Lance did.  It’s so easy to let go of all the heavy emotional shit and let the conversation turn to football and friends and parties and stupid crap they saw on the internet.  
And somehow it just keeps being easy.
Keith expected it to be harder to get back to the type of friendship they’d once had.  But like everything with Lance, he’s surprised again.  Even though Lance is hours away now that somehow doesn’t matter.  They’re still busy with football and school and all the things they were before, but it’s somehow never a problem for them to find time to hang out every now and then and they talk on the phone all the time until the point where Lance realizes that Keith is usually the first person he talks to every morning and the last one he talks to at night.
31 notes · View notes