Chaos in the making

Y'know I've thought about this a lot :0

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The thing about being thrown into space on a giant metal blue lion in the middle of a galactic war you had no idea was happening; everyone you know has faced a near-death experience. The team quickly became numb to certain things that would take months to years to process and overcome on earth. 

Every day they were fighting for their lives and the lives of each other; chugging along to make it through each day. 

Lance was aware of this. He knew they had to block certain things from their mind in order to keep pushing through; which is why he hated how much he relived the explosion. 

He didn’t relive it physically over and over again, but his mind made him feel like he was physically reliving it. He kept this issue hidden away. Didn’t tell the team the countless nights he woke up to ringing in his ears, his skin sticky with sweat, a scream dying in his throat. 

He didn’t tell the team the reason the bags under his eyes were beginning to match Shiro's was because every time he closed his eyes the sound echoed in his mind. The burning sensation consumed him and he swore he could still feel the flames lick at him. 

Lance felt as if he was constantly on edge. Parties were no longer entertaining for him. He dreaded every new person that entered the castle, no matter the smile they wore on their face. 

He hated how he saw everyone as a threat, constantly checking behind him to make sure nothing was trying to sneak up behind him. He no longer spent time in the observation deck, wishing that he was home. 

The only comfort he found was inside of Blue or wrapped up in his bed. 

“I tell you what, you paladins of Voltron are just what we need to win this war,” the king of the planet they had just freed slapped his hand (it was more of a penguin fin) on Lance’s back. 

Lance felt his entire body go stiff, his breath getting caught in his throat. The sounds around him began to swim in his mind, nothing was clear anymore. His mouth suddenly went dry, his eyes frantically scanning the area around him and someone laughed in the space around him. 

The pressure was removed off his back and he quickly took a step away, trying not to make his motions seem wobbly. 

“We are just happy to help. I hope we can count on you for our attack against the Galran empire.” Allura's voice slowly rang clear in his mind and he slowly regained the ability to fill his lungs. 

He bolted back to his lion as soon as he was given the cue, letting himself shake in his chair for a moment. Trying to shake the image that was stuck in his mind. You’re okay. We’re okay. The team is safe. I’m safe. You’re okay. We’re- He let his mind repeat these words; trying to convince his mind it was the truth. 

Lance passed that moment off as a one-time deal. Rationalizing that it was a stranger that touched him and if it was someone on the team he would have been okay. 

He told himself that, believing it was the truth until it was proven wrong. 

“Hey, I just wanted to say you did good today Lance,” Shiro walked beside him, placing his human hand on his upper back in a proud older brother moment. 

Lance stumbled forward, twisting himself around to face Shiro. “Thanks,” he quickly turn back down the hallway, heading straight for his room. As soon as the door closed behind him he allowed himself to break. 

He allowed the small sobs to escape his lips, the tears to streak his face, his body to curl into itself where he sat against his door. The heat from the explosion felt lively on his skin. He rationally knew Shiro didn’t burn him with anything but where his hand was placed felt like it was on fire. 

He could feel himself rocking where he sat, trying to tell himself he was okay, he was safe. But this time, his brain didn’t believe him. 

Lance was aware he needed help. He knew he should confine in someone, maybe Coran? But every time he scrounged up the courage to spill his guts to someone the alarms would blare and he would be rushing down to his lion. 

He felt like a walking corpse. The lack of sleep at night was starting to catch up to him. Causing little mistakes throughout his day. He slid into Hunk at training, nearly knocked Pidge’s computer over, he bumped directly into Shiro while they passed each other in the hall. 

He was slipping, he felt like a glass object teetering over the edge of a table. One wrong move and he would be shattered beyond repair. 

He did everything he could to keep himself from falling. He started to live by certain rules. 

1) No one, absolutely no one was allowed to touch his back in any capacity. No more hugs from Hunk, no more pats on the back, no contact at all. 

2) Always watch your back. Don’t let anyone or anything sneak up on you or a team member. 

3) Never let anyone behind you. Stand against the wall. Always bring up the end of the line. 

4) Be aware of your surroundings.

He memorized these rules, repeating them under his breath in the shower, while he was getting dressed, as he was crawling into bed. They were security in a sense. As long as he followed them, nothing bad would happen to him. 

He leaned against one of the walls in the training room, his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. His teammate did similar things. Pidge laying in the center of the room, Keith chugging a bottle of water, Hunk slumped down by the door, Shiro wiping the sweat off his forehead with a towel.

To say Lance was exhausted was an understatement. He couldn't even remember the last time he properly slept.

Which is was caused him to forget rule #4.

"I think we're getting better at working together." Keith leaned against the wall by Lance, his eyes gazing over the training area.

Lance told himself to breathe, giving a small nod at the other boy.

Keith looked at him, "I'm really happy we put that rivalry behind us." Keith placed his hand on Lance's upper right back shoulder blade.

It was a friendly gesture, Lance knew that. There was no anger or hatred behind the action. Keith was simply being friendly. Being a good teammate.

Unfortunately, Lance's brain wasn't wired to see the situation like that anymore.

His body reacted before his rational mind could catch up. His left hand reached across his chest, grabbing Keith's wrist from where his hand was placed on his body. He yanked on it as soon as he had a strong enough grip and Keith went tumbling forward; slightly rolling over Lance's shoulder.

By the time Lance realized his fellow red paladin was on the ground the team was already making their way toward the two at their own paces.

He backed himself against the wall, his brain running a mile a minute. His breathing was labored and his vision began to swim; he was in pure panic mode.

Keith was being helped up by Shiro who was looking at Lance with confusion but preparedness; Lance didn't doubt that he would tackle him if he tried to attack another team member.

"Lance, just take it easy." Hunk held his hands out in front of him, almost as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. Maybe that's what Lance looked like right now.

Others were talking, their voices melted together and Lance placed his hands over his ears, begging the sounds to stop. He could feel his head shaking as he tried to block the noise.

He looked at his team, and they all looked back with wide eyes. "I'm sorry," he looked towards the closet exit to him, "I need...I have to go." He wasn't sure how he managed to run out of the room without someone grabbing him but he thanked the universe for being able to escape.

He began snapping his armor off in the process, leaving it scattered in his room before stumbling into his bathroom. He borderline ripped his undershirt off his body, trying to stop the burn that was steadily consuming his skin.

He fumbled with the water in the shower, stepping into the freezing temperature, trying to ease the pain.

He could hear pounding on his door and his fingers tangled in his hair. You're okay, you're okay. Just breath. You're okay-

He wasn't sure how long he sat in the freezing water, he wasn't sure when the pounding stopped. When the burning feeling stopped and his body went numb he reached up and turned off the water; he wasn't sure when he slumped to the ground.

He sat in the shower a while longer, letting his body shake from the temperature. He knew he needed to warm up, he needed to pull his pants off his body and changed into something dry. Why was moving so hard right now?

Maybe he dozed off, he had to of since he jolted awake to his bedroom door opening. He glanced at his bathroom door, it was locked, but it wasn't hard to overrule the system.

"Go away, I don't want to talk yet." He hated how his voice wavered on his words, he was tired. So so tired.

"Lance? We don't have to talk, but may I come in?"

Lance closed his eyes, Coran always had a sense of comfort surrounding him. Lance always saw him as an uncle figure.

"Yeah."

The door slid open a couple of moments later, Coran giving him a sad smile. "Did you take a shower?"

Lance hugged his knees, still shivering, "something like that."

Coran nodded and left the room, returning quickly with his pajamas and a towel. "Get changed, I'll go get you some Pressed Cider!" He placed the clothing on the counter by the sink and disappeared.

Lance allowed his body to fall into autopilot and he quickly got changed, leaving his wet clothes in the bottom of the shower and he sat on his bed. His breathing still felt labored in a way, but his bed was safe. Nothing could hurt him here.

Coran reappeared later, two mugs in his hands and a blanket folded up under his arm. He handed the blue mug to his paladin and placed his black mug on the bedside dresser.

He unfolded the blanket and slowly wrapped his around Lance, taking a seat a couple of inches away from him.

"The team said you had a moment."

Lance took a small sip of his drink, focusing on the spice taste that covered his tongue. The temperature was slightly on the hot side, a great improvement from Coran's initial attempts of sharing this drink. Alteans used to put fire rocks in their drinks.

"Keith is okay if you were concerned about him."

Lance nodded.

"But it's nice to know your training is paying off number 3."

Lance gave him an obligatory smile and cast his eyes down at his cup.

"I'm all ears if you need to get something off your chest my boy."

Lance stared down into the dark orange liquid, Coran was with him that day. Maybe he had his own suffering from it. "Does that day ever bother you? The explosion on Arus."

Coran was quiet for a moment, something out of his character, but he eventually released a small sigh. "Yes...sometimes I feel as though I can't shake it. Does it haunt you?"

Lance gave a small nod, taking another sip of his drink. "I relive it every day. I know I'm okay but I sometimes feel like my skin is still being burned."

"Shiro said Keith touched your shoulder and that's when you...had your moment."

Lance appreciated his attempt to lessen the realistic damaged he actually caused to his team. "I didn't mean to."

"I didn't think you did. You're not someone who would attack your team member unless absolutely necessary."

"I don't like people touching my back. I have a list of rules." Coran gave him a questioning look and Lance quickly repeated his rules. "It's the only way I could keep myself going."

"Why didn't you tell one of us?" Coran didn't sound disappointed, but his voice was laced with sadness.

"I didn't want to burden anyone. You lost your family, your whole planet. Shiro was a prisoner for a year, Keith lost his parents, Pidge lost her family...I just had one thing happen to me."

"Lance," Coran placed a comforting hand on his knee, "don't let your mind convince you just because someone has it worst you can't struggle. That was a traumatizing day, sometimes when you run late for breakfast or back to the castle I worry you're gone. I feel as though the team feels the same."

Lance blinked away the tears that were forming in his eyes.

"The team isn't mad at you."

"Keith should be."

Coran shook his head, "he's not. They're just concerned."

"Oh."

"Tell you what. Let's finish our drinks and then we can talk to the team together. See what we can do to support you through this."

Lance dropped his head, "okay."

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Hmmmm love me some angst and a supportive team

Thank you!

Megalodon fossil lost for decades confirms the monster’s terrifying size

A long-lost fossil once thought destroyed has resurfaced, confirming just how enormous megalodon may have been — and offering fresh clues about the giant shark’s life.

ETA: Also adding this image that dates back to 2023, and which I just rerendered in the new version of Daz to see how the lighting behaves. Large version at this YW.com URL.

This is a spot from an italian estate agency (we are governed by the right-wing party)

The woman says "Ridiculous..."

The old lady is not in her home. She is at work. She's meant to be what in Italian is called "la portinaia", aka a cross between a doorwoman and cleaner of a residential building. She's in her small "office" space, at the entrance of the building, from where she can survey the coming and goings of the inhabitants. It's a job that has mostly disappeared, but is culturally very clear to us as having the connotation of "potentially gossipy, one-million-percent judgmental woman who sees everything that goes on in the apartment complex, knows everyone and their secrets, and has Strong Opinions™️".

✧ “You think too much.”      “And you don't think enough.”      “See? That's why we work. You think, I act. Between the two of us we might pass for one well-adjusted human.”

✧ “You can't fix everything with a smile and some charm, you know?”      “But it works on you.”      “… Well, I didn't say it never works.”

✧ “You don't need to walk me home, you know?”      “Yeah, I know, but people are unpredictable and you… have a tendency to get lost in your head.”      “That's a sweet way of calling me oblivious.”      “If the shoe fits.”

✧ “Hold up. Where are you going?” “This guy said he knew a spot and I—“ “You decided to follow a complete stranger to an unknown location, without telling anyone, and… what, get kidnapped?” “It’s not like that, I know him from class.” “Oh, so an obnoxious stranger. Great.”

A Nervous Old Man (right) and his Emotional Support Violence Machine (Left)

Black Menswear modelled by Black Men

the following events ensued:

1. predictable lively discussion on the preparation of Wienerschnitzel, in which natives and wurstaboos are pro-puff and everybody else is like *confused dog head tilt* why wouldn’t you want the crust to stay ~attached to the thing you put it on? as with other fried foods?

2. thirty “Bad Schnitzel is my band name” jokes

3. thirty “Bad Schnitzel is my stripper name” jokes

4. one “ah yes, Bad Schnitzel! a lovely spa town” joke

5. this absolute masterpiece:

“The family name ‘Murasame’ was given to me by my master. The given name ‘Tatsumasa’ is a combination of ‘dragon’ (tatsu), the [zodiac] year when I was born, and one character from my master’s name,” says Murasame."

“My friend used to volunteer at a zoo and was asked by a grown adult ‘at what depth do dolphins become sharks?’. It haunts me to this day.”

“When I was working at the aquarium we had a lady ask if she could be baptized in the otter exhibit (sobbing emoji)”.

“I onetime saw a teenager ask if they could pick up the sting ray out of the touch pool to hit it”. Reply: “a man grabbed a shark out of the touch pool and was so surprised when we started yelling for him to put it back”.

“I had someone ask me if snakes breathe once. Just like. In general. grown woman”.

“I worked at a zoo with parakeets and had a woman tell me ‘these don’t look like parakeets to me…’ (neutral face emoji) like okay sorry”.