when anne boleyn died she was mostly likely in her mid-thrities, and perhaps looked older given the years of stress she lived as queen, she may have had a few greys hair and fine lines on her face
when elizabeth i met her troops at tilbury she was 54 years old, she had bad teeth and thin hair
when eleanor of aquitaine became queen of england she was already 30 years old, when her son richard began king she was 67 and lived some of the most active and adventurous years of her life until her death at 80
when catherine of aragon arrived at her trial at blackfriars and begged henry on hers knees to reconsider and then walked out of court and refused to return she was 43 years old, she was plump and tired looking after years of miscarriages
when her daughter mary raised an army for her right to the throne and entered london she was 37 years old, she was very small and looked much older than her age because of the years of bad health she had endured
anyway women don’t have to be 25 and hot to be important and we should let these women be the ages they were when they did these things
I’ve seen a lot of fanart and fics where aged up Lance has scars on his skin,
and man do I dig that aesthetic, but what if it’s the opposite? What if healing
pods not only repair injuries to the point where there’s no scarring, but they
also repair old damage? Like, say, regenerating tissues and cells to the point
where the whole body is like brand new.
scar that Lance’s sister gave him when he was four? Gone. The old burn he had
when he was twelve and touched the stove? Like it was never there in the first
place. And siblings fight, and Lance has a lot of siblings, so he’s bound to
have many “battle” scars, but they’re wiped away, one by one
like they were
never there, like his past with his family never happened.
maybe at some point, when he only has so many scars left, Lance starts fearing
taking an injury, not because of pain and blood, but because that means another
trip to a healing pod. Another mark of his past, proof that he really is a boy
from Cuba, washed away like ocean foam. Maybe at some point, even if the injury
is severe enough to warrant a visit to the pods, but not quite severe
enough that it’d keep Lance from piloting Blue, he denies Coran when he
suggests he visit the infirmary. Maybe he wants to heal naturally, welcoming
new scars to join the old ones.
he learns to accept it, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe the birthmark on his hip is one
day wiped away, replaced by unblemished tanned skin, and maybe Lance stays up
till two crying because there’s so little left of who he used to be. What’s
left of him that hasn’t been stomped on by parades of war and sullied with
blood, tears and duty?
maybe, when years have passed and the universe is finally well off that they
can return home for a few vargas, maybe… Maybe Lance still looks the same.
Maybe all his visits to the healing pods; being exposed to their magic and
quintessence has regenerated him to the point where he still looks exactly the
same as he did when they snuck out of the Garrison that one oh so fateful
night. Maybe it’s been two years, maybe it’s been ten, but the Paladins all
look the same, to the dot, like they’re untouched by time. But Lance’s family doesn’t. His little sister, who used to only
reach Lance’s hip, all pigtails and freckles, maybe she’s now tall enough to reach his chest and
better at math than Lance will ever be. Maybe she has new scars Lance has never
seen or kissed away.
Maybe his mom has worry lines and grey hairs Lance knows she didn’t have when he last saw her, and maybe she talks less than he remembers. Maybe she has to pinch herself when she first sees her son after however many years, because he hasn’t changed a bit. Maybe she breaks into tears at the sight of him, and her hug is just as warm and three times as tight as Lance remembers.
Maybe his siblings give him a new scar to cherish before there’s another planet, another crisis that needs Voltron.