I had this sudden idea , i dont really headcanon it but it seemed interesting to me , what if lance is adopted, its not really likely but maybe thats why he cherishes his family, i mean its not likely but it seems interesting,
[fandom exists to enjoy things - seriously, it doesn’t matter how likely an idea is to be canon, you are here to explore things and play with the characters you’ve come to know and love. so never hesitate to send us an ask, no matter how (un)likely it seems to be, we’re open for everything^^]
MOVING ON TO THE ACTUAL ASK,,,, THIS BREAKS MY HEART??? WOW. W O W.
Imagine tiny, 3 years old Lance in an orphanage with next to no memories of his real parents. And he’s getting along fine with the other kids, he isn’t the most popular but not the most unpopular either, but he doesn’t have real friends. Sure, there is always someone to hang out and have fun with, but no one he can come to when he’s crying over the hurt bird he found in the backyard. Crying is looked down upon - everyone has a hard life, so what business does he have crying about anything? Learn to grow up.
So young Lance learns. He learns to smile and tease and be happy and outgoing. He learns to be confident and radiate positive energy because that’s what makes people want to stick around. When he is 7 years old, he knows how to be a “cool kid”.
A year later he gets put into a foster family. A foster family with lots of other children, all older than him. They are happy and outgoing and touchy and love to hang out with him.
[Once, just once he tested how far this love would go: he pretended to have a stomachache. His foster parents were so worried for him that they forbade him to go to school, his siblings brought him crackers and kept him company in his room while he ‘rested to get better’. His grandma went out and bought new medicine, ‘just in case it might get worse’. For Lance, it was heaven - he thought that these people might really become “family”. People that maybe, one day, he could share secrets with and depend on.]
The first time he cries is when he gets adopted into the family. He is 10 years old then; he is 10 years old and loved and knows that these people want him.
When his family sees him crying, their reaction is not the friendly teasing he anticipates. It’s shocked faces and hugs and reassurances and, finally, laughter when he admits that he is just so happy that he couldn’t help himself. He gets his hair ruffled and arms arounds his shoulders - and when they take their picture with a “612 days in foster care: now we are one family” shield held up by him and his siblings, he later discovers that he wasn’t the only one that had tears in his eyes.
They move to the US. The first months are harsh; he has learned some English in school but it wasn’t nearly enough to keep up with the kids over here. And the first time he cries because of insults getting hurled his way, his mother comes and envelops him in a hug.
No one laughs about his tears anymore. No one puts their image above anyone’s feelings and for the first time Lance really understands what it means to have a family. He vows to protect them all and help them in any way he can. He cooks with his mom; he talks about planes with his dad; he knits with his grandma; he does face masks with his sister; he learns how to play soccer with his brother. Once a week, they all go swimming together - they all miss the ocean. They all miss their home in Cuba.
When a few years later the topic of adoption comes up again, Lance is the first one to say “yes”. His parents look at him in surprise and for the first time ever he really tells everyone how much becoming part of their family means to him. It’s an emotional event and more than one of them ends up crying. But it’s okay: it’s okay because crying is not a bad thing here, they are family, they are each other’s support, they have hugs and shoulder pats and cuddle piles. It’s okay.
A few months later, they adopt two new children. Lance is happy and proud and makes sure to be the best big brother anyone could ever ask for. He teaches them how to tie their shoes, how to sneak out of the house, how to whistle and how to properly throw a ball.
Not even a month later, he goes on a school trip to a planetarium. It’s when he realizes that he wants to become a pilot - he wants to reach for the stars. He wants to fly and reach for the stars and be free of judgement. He wants to fly and have a home to come back to.
When he excitedly tells his family about it, they cheer for him and support him. They help him look for programs to get into flight schools, his father lends him all the plane magazines he has, they buy glow-in-the-dark paint and paint his bedroom ceiling. They help him with his grades to get him into the Garrison flight program and when he gets accepted, they have a huge celebration party in his honor.
He never forgets the picture they made at the airport, all together, waving him goodbye.
[He misses their hugs.]
[He misses their hugs just like he misses the ocean.]
[He misses their hugs, he misses the ocean, he misses home - but over time he comes to realize that he has found a new family. A smaller one than before but one that’s just as lively, just as fun. He still misses them, of course; but this new family makes the distance between them much more bearable.]
What if Yurio picked Otabek’s yukata for him, so that they’d match?
So here are 200-ish words exploring precisely that. :D;;
Otabek doesn’t catch on immediately. It’s not the first time that he’s gone shopping with Yuri, and it’s not the first time that Yuri’s tried to pick clothes for him. He still has that t-shirt from Barcelona, the one Yuri insisted he get because it brought out his eyes - whatever that meant.
As yukata go, Otabek supposes this one’s alright. It’s black, a colour he likes, and the silver design is pretty cool. Yuri’s also really keen on it, which is a plus.
He’s still a little self conscious, however, when he steps out of the changing room. “Ta-dah,” he says, putting on his best please-like-me smile.
Yuri gives him a thumbs-up, which is enough to convince Otabek to pay for the yukata shortly after.
It’s only later, when he’s drinking some kind of sweet, fizzy lemonade from a blue bottle, that he catches on.
Yuri hooks his arm around the crook of Otabek’s elbow, snuggling againat Otabek’s bare arm. (Otabek had folded the sleeves of his yukata up by then, the weather hot as it is.)
“I’m glad we match,” Yuri says cheerfully.
Otabek glances at the pattern on Yuri’s yukata, takes in the colours. He looks down at his.
“No- Mikey, no, I don’t-
I don’t dance for crying out loud-”
“If I can do this then you can do that,” Mikey sang, clashing lyrically with the song currently
playing in the dojo.
Karai dug her heels in, resisting the tugging of her arms. “Mikey,
I don’t dance-”
“I say you can~” Mikey continued, and Karai just knew her brother was quoting something. Even if she didn’t know specifically what.
“Oh for- fine,” Karai
let herself be tugged into the center of the room, where the rest of their
family was already metaphorically tearing up the rug. Her forced participation
brought a resounding approval from them all, in the form of cheering and good-natured ribbing.
They were supposed to be training, but no, apparently it was a Spontaneous Dance Night, for the sake of
team morale. Shini grinned at Karai as they passed each other, and Karai stubbornly
fought the smile on her face.
Mikey crowed victoriously, and spun the two of them in a
“You’re incorrigible,” Karai said grumpily, unwillingly
starting to be drawn into the swing of things.
“And you are a
huge grump who needs to lighten up,” Mikey replied, moving their steps to the
vibrant beat. “Even infamous crime bosses need to get down now and again.”
Karai gave one last obligatory groan of annoyance, and let
herself be twirled into a complicated series of dance steps. “Well if I have
to, I’ll be sure to wipe the floor with you.”
“Hell yes, and
good fuckin’ luck with that, sis. I’m the dance floor master.”
“Maybe,” Karai smiled wickedly. “But we’re in a dojo, and as
of yet, I’m still the better fighter.”