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purplerose244 · 4 years ago

Text

Lighten up

Here’s my fic for the @mlsecretsanta! So happy I joined in this year too, it’s one of my favorite events!! 😍 Hi @xlexicx! ❤ I’m your secret santa! Here’s my present for you, I hope you like it! Merry Christmas!! 😊😊

Summary: Take the high road, do not intervene. That was what Adrien said, to his friend and to himself. Then again, Chat Noir said none of that. And he really didn't like seeing Marinette sad.

Also on AO3

How to make the worst Christmas Eve, by Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Ingredients.

Seven days filled with plenty of akuma attacks, as fresh as possible, dripping with exhaustion. A couple of extremely busy hours to finish the dress to bring to the party, whipped consistently with stress and pressure considering all the important figures that were going to see it. And a big handful of disappointment, because while trying her best to ignore how out of place she was feeling during such an event – at least without wearing her special pois suit –, Marinette had almost forgotten the golden boy to add to the situation, or to be precise it was Adrien himself that hadn’t been able to come. Because that was what gave this terrible night its distinct disappointing taste.

“I can tell you all about him, he’s even more charming when he’s not into his suit!” A whistle in his ear. Lila was marching in the middle of the ballroom, waving around her black dress, the feathers on the hair pin over her head, and her long innocent eyelashes, followed by some of Marinette’s most precious friends. “He said he got in like a breeze even without getting recognized, I guess this party could only be that exclusive since even Marinette could get the tickets! Oh, but I’m still grateful!” She waved at her, grinning widely.

Right, she forgot one important part of this disgraceful recipe, an extremely generous sprinkle of lies all over. Better of hypocritical origins. She clenched her hand around her glass, the drink raised up a little. She was starting to wish he got the Cat Miraculous.

Just for the sake of a good old Cataclysm.

Marinette forced her grimace into a smile, for the sake of Alya, Rose, Nino and Juleka all orbiting around the star of the night. Yeah, of course she was. Even though it was the stylist who got the tickets from Jagged as a little Christmas present, it was all about that liar once again. She didn’t even know why she was surprised anymore.

“You’re welcome…” More unique was, the latest idea the brunette had come up with to grab attention. And that one was even more out of the line than her usual.

“You guys, I’m really thirsty, and I saw Chat pretty tired too. I’m gonna take a little break, have something to drink.” Lila snapped at her friends one of those insanely studied, absurdly accurate, innocent smiles. “I would never want my date to get tired, especially since he’s a superhero in disguise! Oh, sorry, I raised my voice but remember that this stays between us, right?” She did her bat of eyelashes, she did her little wave of her hair that was meant to be annoying only to those who knew her – ergo, only this everyday Ladybug at the moment –, and leaving her excited friends behind she headed straight towards the drink station.

Right where Marinette was. Oh no, not another war declaration. When she had decided to come to this party despite knowing her sixth ticket would had gone to her, she had promised herself not to cause an argument and to stay as far away as possibly from her. Something that Lila had deliberately decided to ignore considering how she was pondering on what to drink while giving her the smuggest look, like she had just discovered Hawk Moth’s identity and wanted her to beg for it.

Hawk Moth had to be busy today. With all the evil intentions that the stylist was feeling right now, she could had become three different akumas. Then, her phone vibrated from her purse. She read the name, and all darkness dissipated immediately. Her heart was melting way before reading.

“Getting to my rescue, my prince?” She whispered, checking the new notifications.

Adrien had sent her Nino’s video first, that alone brought a smile to her face. The DJ had been absolutely adamant that he made at least a little film about the party, to show the blonde that they were all hoping he was going to recover soon. For once that he would had been allowed to attempt to an event that had happened to include a few friends of his, he had to faint a day after the end of school for Christmas break. Exhaustion. If it hadn’t made so much sense she would had been so much angrier. And she was fuming. She was mad, and furious, and sad, and all of the sudden Christmas felt so unfair. Like after being unfairly negated so many things in life, Adrien had to be stopped by a cold.

More messages followed.

Adrien: I’m glad everyone’s having fun.

Adrien: I hope the night gets better for you, you look tense.

Adrien: See you soon :)

Of course, she had made quite a face, since Lila had started to talk about her supposed relationship with her partner. Also of course, complete goo heart. Along with a deep sadness.

An angel. Even now, while forced under the cover of his bed – with those lovely cheeks all red and lucid gorgeous eyes and perfect lips and dang Mari stop it –, like he hadn’t been stuck into his own room enough to last him for a lifetime, even now he had taken the time to worry about her. He was worried about her. What a wonderful, sweet, caring, so lovable, unbelievably kind-

“Well hello Marinette, grabbing something to drink too?” Awful, hypocritical, incredibly annoying liar that had dared to interrupt her mental praises towards her beloved Adrien. Lila put herself right next, grabbing a glass herself, wearing that smirk on top of her lips. “I am too, I’m so tired, you have no idea! I didn’t know admitting my relationship with Chat Noir was going to cause all of this fuss! I guess these people really drink whatever you tell them…” It had to bring some kind of relief to her, not having to lie to Marinette since she was perfectly aware how little integrity the brunette had in her. Then again, who knew if even this manipulative face wasn’t another lie. If it turned out under all those veils there was absolutely nothing underneath, the stylist would had believed it.

She knew engaging her was a bad idea. Take the high road, like Adrien said.

But then she noticed a little necklace hanging over the black dress. With a round bell on it. And it was enough. She put the glass down to not crush it out of frustration.

“What do you want to get out of this?”

“I’m so glad you asked, you know what feels even better than seeing you hopelessly trying to prove to everyone that I’m wrong?” Yep, good call on the glass. “Thinking of that pathetic pois superhero discovering on the Ladyblog, because let’s be real Alya can’t keep her big mouth shut even for a second, that her beloved partner is going out with the girl she hates so much.” Lila hummed with satisfaction, sipping her drink, sighing delightfully. “Two birds with one stone, bella! She won’t be able to prove it wrong either, because the stupid doesn’t even know Chat Noir’s real identity!”

Marinette had always thought that her normal life and her superhero life were separated by one giant wall in between. Then this girl had come along, managing to get all the hate from the both of sides, making her feel like double herself, and double the need for vengeance.

She tightened her fists, glaring at her.

“This is dangerous, Lila! Their identities are important, their lives are! It’s one thing messing with me or our classmates, but they’re the heroes that save us every day!”

“So glad to hear your opinion, the one I don’t care about. Well then, I think I’ll go meet with my date, Chat Noir.” Lila giggled, pointing at a random guy. “Could it be him? Or maybe him? I’m the only one who knows, after all!” She laughed, Marinette grunted. “Maybe him? How about him?”

Not her kitty. Not her partner. Not her l-

“I might have a good guess.” One cheerful, sassy, unmistakable voice erupted between them. “But please keep going, don’t let me stop you. After all, when the cat’s away, the mice will play!” Chat Noir winked at Marinette, most likely hinting at that short time of her as Multimouse. Which would had been very annoying yet kinda witty, if she hadn’t been this shocked to see him.

To see him… like this.

The mask was there as usual, the ruffled hair and the pulsing eyes too. But that wasn’t his usual costume, at least not completely. He was rocking a full black suit tailored like it had been made just for him, yet the gentle shine over the cloth and the clawed gloves still present gave it away that it was still part of his normal superhero attire. He had a bright green tie with a minuscule fantasy that looked like many tiny Cataclysms one next to each other, and his usual reinforced shoes looked less rough and more refined.

He looked good. Something about Chat Noir’s confident attitude and that certain egomaniac tendency gave it away how in a proper suit he would had looked pretty great, but this was real. This was actually happening, and Marinette found herself catching her breath.

Luckily – for once in her life and only this once –, Lila was there as well.

“Chat Noir?!?” Oh, that horrified, overwhelmed face made the stylist’s night. That perfect satisfied face cracked violently, and she was frozen on the spot.

“Oh my, it is him!!” Unluckily, for once for Lila, Alya had a special filter in her ear for scoops and even from the other side of the room she managed to hear – also the brunette had erupted into a pretty impressive and delightfully scared squeak. “You actually showed up in your costume, what happened to the secrecy? Don’t worry, I know about yours and Lila’s situation, and I promise it’s between very close friends!” She had the recorder out already, pointed out like a weapon, looking oh so hopeful.

Chat Noir grinned, flashing a wink at the phone Nino was holding up to record the scene.

“You know I’m always up for a special interview for the Ladyblog, Alya.” The holder of the fox Miraculous brightened. “But I’m gonna need a heads up, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.” And just as fast the glimmer died down, turning into a frown. She put a hand over her hip, her peach-colored dress wrapped tight around her torso.

“Come on, do you really have to make it difficult? I don’t actually know your identity, although I did have a look around knowing you were somewhere.” A snort.

“Yeah I was somewhere, somewhere else. You do realize I just arrived, right?”

“Of coooouuurse, you just arriiiiived.” Alya winked at him. The cat superhero stared at her blankly, taking his time to fill a glass and empty it pretty quickly. He did look pretty tired now, like he did quite the run. “�� you were here as a civilian, right? You even sent those little notes to Lila, saying how beautiful she was and all the rest!” The journalist held the recorder with one hand and picked up something from her pocket. A little green note saying ‘love the feathers, you look like a queen. CN.’. And wow, Marinette could at least compliment how shameless the brunette had been.

Chat Noir peaked over it, frowning.

“… Alya I signed stuff for you, you know that’s not my handwriting.” The journalist hummed uncertainly, like she did have that thought. “Besides, as I said, I wasn’t here. I arrived now.”

“Oh you don’t have to lie Chat Noir!” At last Lila came back from whatever world she had been stuck on, pulling off that obnoxiously wide smile right towards her kitty, huh, this kitt- the kitty! “But I understand that you’re not ready, so don’t make too much of it, forget about it and enjoy the night!” Of course she couldn’t give up, it was never that easy with her.

The cat superhero simply smirked, filling his glass again.

“Thank you Lila, a very warm welcome. How about you give the same to Officer Roger and Mr. Ramier over there?” Next to the mayor, chatting happily, where the two named that had in fact appeared only in that moment. Sabrina was greeting her father with a big hug. “We had a pretty tough moment back there, they got into another argument over pigeons and laws, luckily we managed to arrive to a compromise before things escalated. Bet Hawk Moth bite his Miraculous over this one!” He snickered, emptying another cup with a satisfied sigh.

Trying to solve a conflict through words and a plan instead of destroying everything, that sounded like the Ladybug way. And there he was, her – the – kitty, looking all happy about it like he was thinking of her proud owner petting his head.

A smile came on its own, Marinette couldn’t help it, and maybe didn’t want to.

“Great job, Chat Noir.” The superhero beamed at her. Adrien’s eyes were pure and breathtaking, but the unnatural beauty of these was impressive too. So very pretty.

Alya looked like she had half the forehead from how hard she was frowning.

“But Lila said you’ve talked all night together…”

“We did! He’s just covering it up!!” Lila’s voice raised of one octave at least, judging from how hard Chat Noir had winced being right next to her. The brunette smiled at him, batting her deer-like eyelashes. “Chat, I know what’s going on, you still feel like you own something to Ladybug. But you got hurt so much by her already, and this is not fair! Don’t you think you deserve better?” She scooted closer, raising a hand over him. “Come here, come to someone that can give you what you want.” Okay was Marinette really the only one who thought this was getting weird?

Apparently not, from how promptly the cat superhero had dodged the touch. He was suddenly extremely tense, a very wary smile on his face, hands raised like he was surrendering. Somehow his usual goofiness looked almost charming today…

Or that was the suit. Yeah, definitely the suit.

“Now there, I know I’m irresistible, but I really don’t think you should get any closer.”

“Why would you get away? Do you hate me? Prove me you don’t and get over here!” Lila tried to grab him again, but it was too easy for him. “Ladybug doesn’t even love you, why all this fuss??”

“Lila, I’m telling you, it’s better for you to stay awa-”

“I said get back here!!”

“Nope, no way!”

What a weird scene, an angry fox chasing a cat in the middle of the ballroom of the most luxurious hotel of Paris, surrounded by guests now very aware of the commotion happening. Their friends, guests, celebrities, even the mayor was starting to get worried. Marinette spotted Rose and Juleka, with the former all saddened by the fight between two people that she knew and probably wanted to get along – predictable –, and Luka along with Chloe and Kagami, with the rich girl absolutely living through this – predictable and relatable.

As a fairly common scene, Chat managed at the end to step on his own tail and struggle to stay up, right as Lila finally managed to land onto his chest with a grin.

“See everyone? It was simply a little fight between sweethearts, nothing to-”

Marinette could confidently say that, in her life, she had witnessed plenty of extremely satisfying moments. Saving her city every day along with her trusty partner while helping the people she loved? Awesome. Stepping up as her own person thanks to the confidence given from being Ladybug and getting to leave a mark into her life? Incredible. Spending occasional but so precious time with the love of her life knowing that with every single moment spent together, the chance of becoming something more became at least somehow possible? Priceless.

But this one, this very specific moment when Chat Noir scowled visibly and then sneezed, loudly and very grossly, right into Lila’s face, this one could take the cake. She had never seen such a perfect sequence of moments happening in her life.

The brunette screamed, panting in pure shock, as the hero wiped his nose.

“I tried to warn you, achoo!” He took two steps back, waving his hand at her. “I’m super allergic to feathers, and you’re wearing a hair pin full of it! I couldn’t stay near you if I wanted to!” It had some weird effect, this suited up Chat sniffing with his head up in desperate search for a tissue. Both extremely him and endearing, to the point Marinette cracked a laugh when the research was fruitful and the superhero blew loudly into a paper towel.

With the white feathers on her head, the nasty green of her eyes and the absolute flushed face of her, Lila looked one with the flag of her country. For a second. One extremely Italian second.

Then, of course, the waterfalls arrived.

“That was so mean of you, you should’ve at least warned me!” Chat Noir’s simple retort was a large grimace that said ‘I tried to’ quite clearly, but the brunette was into her part now. “I thought you were kind and special, but you’re just a jerk! You wanna make me look bad! I should’ve known! Right Alya?” She turned around to get her friend’s support.

Only to meet with something that for luck of fate, when she had first transferred in their school, Lila Rossi hadn’t managed to encounter: Alya Cesaire’s inquisitory glare.

“Wait a second.” She lowered her recorder without switching it off, stepping forward with one foot. “If he’s allergic there’s no way he talked to you or even got close to you tonight! All along you told me you were chatting with him… Lila… were you lying?”

Marinette could hardly believe it. She stared, agape, but never as much as the actual liar.

“I wasn’t! Of course not, he’s making that up to make me look bad! I don’t know why he’s pulling up all of this act, he’s probably getting manipulated by Ladybug to make me look bad! And here I thought she was a friend! Besides, I bet he’s pretending the allergy!”

“Excuse me, miss.” Completely out of nowhere none other than Mr. Ramier appeared, along with Roger and Sabrina, with the latter immediately running towards Chloe – with eyes sparkling like stars at the sight of her best friend’s two chaperones. “But if I may interject, there’s no way Chat Noir is lying about his allergy. I would know, since I get akumatized quite often and he’s forced to endure my pidgeons all the time. Very sorry about it by the way.” The gentleman looked at the cat hero, who got another tissue kindly offered by Rose and simply waved his hand like it was not a big deal. Which was fair, Mr. Pidgeon wasn’t nearly the most menacing threat ever – a bit of routine in the mess that was their lives was actually nice sometimes.

That same sweet blonde and helpful girl with the pink dress gasped all of the sudden, tears shining in her eyes. Actual, genuine drops, unlike someone else’s.

“You said the feathers were artificial, that your grandma was running a charity association that wanted to erase everything made by animals in the fashion world!!” Her lip covered in peach gloss quivered vividly. “I can’t believe you would lie about that, Marinette was right!” She turned to the stylist, who couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “I’m so sorry Marinette, I should’ve known!” Juleka from behind her nodded, looking sorry.

Lila gasped, again in her overly dramatic way, shaking her head.

“How could you say that? You know I would never lie, you know me! I… I…” Marinette should had seen it coming, as soon as those vengeful eyes got stuck on her. “It’s all Marinette’s fault!” Crocodile tears once again, the stylist didn’t even have it in her to be annoyed. “She wants to make me look bad, she did ever since I came here! I don’t know why she hates me so much!” There was such a long list into her diary, but the stylist felt like it wasn’t necessary. Her friends looked doubtful. Like they were on her side again. “And you’re trying to make me feel bad, I could get akumatized! How could you?”

“You do realize I’m right here, right?” Chat Noir grinned at her, getting closer to Marinette. “I could easily take care of you while Ladybug gets here, no problem. So go along, get crazy.” Wow, Ladybug would had not approved that. Good thing she wasn’t here.

“Did Marinette drag you into this?? She is the worst!!”

“No way, Marinette’s the best! She made these awesome shades of mine!” Out of nowhere Jagged Stone interjected, cocking a wink to her favorite designer who couldn’t help the little giggle – the frequency he showed those glasses reminded her of her dad whenever she accomplished anything. “Girl the way you’re talking to her is totally not rock and roll, who do you think you are??” The Rockstar glared. And so did Fang behind him, showing all of his teeth.

All colors drained from Lila’s face, as she pointed at the rockstar.

“What- Why- He isn’t supposed to…!”

“Oh yeah, didn’t I tell you?” Chat Noir seemed to be trying his best to contain his smug aura. “Another reason I got here this late, I thought of inviting Jagged and prince Ali! Isn’t it great? They’re usually super busy and not really into random celebrations, but it turns out they’re more than happy to participate knowing one of their heroes is here. What do you know?”

Lila was at loss, going with startled eyes from the celebrity in front of her, to the royalty not too far, to the people staring judgily at her. She opened her mouth to speak, try more covers, but Alya’s lips smack interrupt her. The journalist looked like she finally had enough, turning to Jagged.

“A question. You don’t know Lila, do you?”

“This girl? Definitely not.”

“So you never wrote her a song because she saved your cat?”

“Pff, a cat? I’m allergic to cats, and I hate them, they’re so unfriendly! Well, most of them, Chat Noir is pretty cool.” Another wink was thrown at the superhero, who cocked finger guns at the superstar. It looked oddly appropriate between these two.

Alya grabbed her head between her hands, groaning loudly.

“I can’t believe it, I… I’m so stupid. Marinette.” Her eyes were so gloomy, so different from her usual self. It made them trustworthy, despite everything. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve believed you right away. I promise I’ll make up for all I did. In the meantime…” With a quick gesture, as quick as Rena Rouge would had done it, Alya grabbed Lila’s arm and dragged her forward. “We’re gonna make sure you don’t know prince Ali too, and find out where in the world where you during your vacation since, you know, it looks like you missed school without a reason! And all of my interviews on the Ladyblog, ooooh, you’re in big trouble girl!!”

“No!! Let me go!! Marinette’s lying!!” The image of the perfect girl crumbled right away, as Lila started to pull such a tantrum that Manon would had felt embarrassed for her. “It’s all Ladybug’s fault! Or Marinette’s! Or both!! And Chat Noir’s!! It’s their fault, not mine, they’re the liars! I’m not a liar! I’M NOT A LIAR!!” And like that she was dragged away without mercy, like a criminal finally getting brought to justice.

People followed the scene, Rose and Juleka still looking sorry, Nino as well while making sure his girlfriend wasn’t going to straight up murder Lila. And Marinette stayed where she was, looking at them as the prince turned around, and another tantrum was born from the exposed liar.

After five full seconds of silence, Chat Noir blew his nose into the tissue once again, so loudly nearby guests gave him weirded out looks.

But not Marinette, no. She burst into laughter.

“Oh my gosh, it actually happened! Karma happened! A Christmas miracle!” She had to wipe a tear, more relieved than happy in reality. “If this is a dream please don’t wake me up, I wanna live in this world forever!” And in that precise moment the music changed, a slow rhythm that made her smile incredulously. “Wow, really? This night everything is meant to go just right, huh.” She giggled again, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. She turned towards the hero, her actual hero, finding him staring at her. The mask covered most of his face, but was that a blush?

“… then it would be a pity going against the flow, right?” Chat Noir smirked, bowing in front of her and extending a gloved hand. “May I have this dance?”

Marinette gaped at him.

“Me?”

“This superhero has every intention to dance with the prettiest girl of the night, yeah.” Curse this flirtatious little kitty, looking like he had everything under control after pulling such a stunt against that liar. Curse herself for letting it work, as she was led in the middle of the dance floor.

The lights got softer, the song too. Even with the confrontation happening not that far in the room, Marinette found it extremely easy to simply live in this moment. Especially given that her – the… alright her – kitty turned out to be quite the dancer, pulling her along gently, a hand over her hip and the other clenched around her hand. It felt like her goofy partner was miles away from this elegant person, but at the same time something told her that this made sense. For some reason him being so kind and sophisticated made her feel like it was perfectly normal.

Marinette smiled softly, moving slowly. Savoring this instant.

“I didn’t think it was going to end up like this.” Chat Noir hummed questioning. “Dancing with a superhero after the defeat of a villain without akuma, that’s something.”

“You got pretty lucky, huh? Especially on the first part.” And there he was, ruining the mood, pulling her along as he laughed. Maybe a little too much? “… oh! Sorry!” He straightened up, snickering nervously. Looking dizzy. “I’m a little out of it tonight.”

The stylist frowned in worry.

“If you weren’t feeling good you shouldn’t have come.”

“Bet Ladybug would tell me something similar, along with the scolding of my life for getting involved into civilian stuff.” She was pondering about it. Mm, maybe she could let this one go. “I understand it, I do, and I usually would’ve been on my own without interacting with anyone, but I couldn’t keep it shut anymore… not after seeing how sad you looked.” And suddenly his eyes were serious, focused. Like there was actually a guy underneath all the jokes.

It was supposed to be a shock. It felt more like a surprise to her. A little push in an unknown right direction, unexpected yet somehow helpful.

“You did it for me?”

“I think Lila getting busted helps everyone, but yes, mostly for you.” Again with the red on his cheeks, this time it was undeniable. “I thought I could let it go, but I saw how it got on your nerves, and after a while it got on my nerves because it got on your nerves, and I guess I couldn’t get my paws out of this one huh? I thought that fox needed a little less- Oh.” Huh, apparently this kitty did have an off button. And Marinette actually grinned while holding him, her cheek over his solid chest, hands around his neck. Feeling comfortable, happy.

… familiarly happy? She frowned a little.

“How did you know I wasn’t okay? You said you just arrived.” She could feel him swallow from this close, after finally putting his hands over her back. And again that warm lightning shocked her over the skin, a pinch in the middle of her brain. Like this was a dream that had happened before.

Chat Noir snorted softly.

“Let’s say a friend told me.”

“Let’s say I don’t believe you.”

“I would never lie to you. I… I really don’t want you to be sad, ever. You’re so amazing, you deserve all the happiness you can get.” And with that he let himself go with the movement, less shy, more him as he led her through the dance.

The music was lovely, Chat was lovely, and one by one other people were joining the dance floor like they were all part of the same fairy tale. She could spot Juleka and Rose holding each other, Kagami pulling forward the arm of a very flushed Chloe with a giggling Luka following behind, Alya clearly satisfied of the dealt situation with Lila dragging her boyfriend in, who looked way too into it to say anything, putting quickly his phone in his pocket.

His phone… the video… everything.

Marinette gasped, her mind finally unlocking that everything.

The film of the party that only one person had managed to see besides the DJ. The same allergy to feathers. The same golden hair, the same gorgeous green eyes. The confidence in his ways, the poor health of tonight – he was here while he should had been recovering, this dumb reckless kitty, she so wanted to slap him and smooch him. And this emotion, this undeniable feeling of belonging that came whenever she was between his arms, dancing like they had at Chloe’s party when he had made all of her dreams coming true with one single moment.

It was so obvious. The more she thought about it, the more she felt stupid and unbelieving and so, so incredibly happy. So much it was making her tear up, so much it was burning her heart violently. So much she wanted to scream it, tell all of Paris, tell the entire the world that it was happening.

“It’s you.” It came with a whisper, without her realizing.

“Mhm? You’re kinda shivering.” She untangled herself from him, missing the warmth, melting into his big, confused eyes. “Are you okay?”

There really was no one else.

“… could you come to my house tomorrow night?” Marinette tried her best to hold her voice together, tightening her hands onto him. She could see his smile. She could see him, under the mask or with it. “I’ll have a Christmas present for you. As a thank you gift.” And just like every time with every single akuma she had met, a specific plan formed into her head, with Chat Noir by her side.

Only this time, it was a complete solo mission. The most important one.

***

How to make the best Christmas night, by Adrien Agreste.

Ingredients.

Seven days filled with plenty of akuma attacks, as fresh as possible, dripping with exhaustion. One or two – two – very generous pinches of scolding from father because of ineptitude at being absolutely flawless. And kwami, possibly cat kwami, fallen asleep on his pillow with his cheesy smelly breath directed towards him all night. Let it all fall onto the ground because of exhaustion, making him miss the Christmas Eve party where he was supposed to meet with his friends and have a great night – black cat, bad luck, har har.

Then… pick up the bowl and start over. Add an abundant thirst of revenge after watching one blue-haired girl all gloomy – and pretty, that dress wow, she really was unbelievably talented –, a fulfilled vendetta that hopefully wasn’t going to generate more troubling problems than the major one that got solved, and an invitation from said blue-haired girl for Christmas.

An actual, proper Christmas.

Chat Noir grinned widely, jumping right into the freezing air, way less fatigued than yesterday. He slept all day, regaining the strength, getting constant smug eyes from Plagg for some reasons. His father had even checked on him, maybe even sad that this year they hadn’t had Christmas at all. So he brought dinner to his bed, and they had it together. It had been somehow unsettling and nice at the same time. Last Christmas, his escape had caused a major problem, yet the solution to everything. Adrien really hoped it was going to be the same, especially for his feelings.

He stopped over a building. He could see the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery from there, and a sudden surge of worry caught him off guard. What was he expecting from this? Marinette was incredible, being invited felt like an honor alone. Was that why he was out of breath? What else was coming? His heart was for Ladybug, then why did it not doubt about helping Marinette?

A breeze caught his right under his neck, making him shiver. Ah, he was here in any case. And he was pretty sure his social skills still weren’t developed enough to let him come to a conclusion.

He jumped over the railing and landed on the small terrace at the top of the bakery, feeling his entire being immediately burst into amazement: it was beautifully decorated with Christmas lights and plants, little Christmas balls, stars, bows and little angels all over. A little table was settled with two chairs, with plenty of sweet goodness like bonbon, macarons, brownies and one wonderful Bouche de Noel. It had stopped snowing this morning, so the night was as clear as ever, shining of stars and wonder.

This was too much. It was so much that Adrien felt himself coming out of the costume in form of little tears, that Chat Noir quickly rubbed away. He faced a bully for a girl the other night, and now he was getting emotional because this precious little corner felt so comfortable he wasn’t used to it? He had to pull himself together before-

The door of the terrace opened. He took a deep breath. Play it cool, thank her, enjoy the moment. So he turned towards the sound with the widest smile Chat Noir had.

“I have to admit, this is pretty paw-some, Mari-” His voice got stuck into his throat.

This was a dream. This was the most vivid and lifelike dream he had ever had. Ladybug was stepping up from the door, eyes glimmering under the mask, wearing a majestic red dress covered in black dots. Long black gloves covered her elegant arms, her blue hair fell gracefully over her shoulders, and her pink lips were curved in the sweetest smile possible. With her flushed cheeks and the lights framing her figure, she looked like a queen.

And she stepped forward, her highness, looking pleased and even endeared by the kitty’s reaction, that still couldn’t move a single muscle.

“I’m glad you like it, I know you have a bit of a sweet tooth. And you seemed to really dig dad’s vol-au-vent that time we had Sunday brunch, so I asked him to make some. Without telling him why of course.” Dad…? Before…? “Ah, but you’re here for this, aren’t you?” Hadn’t he been completely out of himself from the daze of this apparition, maybe he would had noticed the little box into her soft hands. It was covered in a green wrapping paper, with a black bow on it.

Chat Noir blinked. Adrien blinked, because his brain was returning to him incredibly slowly but he could still hear the echo of what was happening. And he didn’t know if he was going to be able to take it. So without looking at it he grabbed the present, lips shivering.

“L… Ladybug?” And she dared to blush, like she didn’t look breathtaking already.

“J-just open it, okay?” And she dared to ask him to do something, alluring to the possibility to move or think or act – honestly it was asking a little too much from his little feline brain.

Nonetheless, after what felt like an eternity, Chat managed to trace the wrapping of the present with his claw, gently cutting the paper in the process. He grabbed an edge and discovered another box, black with a red cover. It was already perfect. But shivers caught him as he was pulling up the top, because Ladybug looking at him so intensely, so incredibly involved with him, that every movement felt meaningful. And when he finally peaked inside, his poor heart thought it was going to stop right there, just for the sake of passing away this happy.

A green branch, tender leaves, and white berries. A little mistletoe plush was waiting for him inside the box, soft looking and well made, like only one person he knew could had done with such care and dedication. So there was no stopping the gears inside his head anymore, not when everything was making this much sense all of the sudden, not while Ladybug was stepping close, putting her hands on his over the box.

Those hardworking hands, those hair as dark as night, those pretty bluebell eyes – blindness, thy name Adrien Agreste – that desire to get her closer and more comfortable with him. That feeling of ease that he thought was only meant for the closest of friends.

Ladybug smiled. Marinette smiled.

“Tikki, spots off.” In the cold night of Christmas, a red glimmering light manifested over the girl of his dreams, revealing the one he had been looking for all along. And through her lucid eyes, her goofy smile, her flushed cheeks, he could still see all of her. Because this was her. Beautifully her. “I-I thought this was the best present I could give you, after what you did yesterday and always did for me.” She laughed when Tikki flew over the present and picked it up, right over their heads. He loved that kwami. “I hope it’s good enough…?”

Her eyes fell, the slightest fear shaking the hands that were still covering his.

And Adrien felt appalled, so outraged, looking at her straight into her beautiful eyes, smiling so much he probably looked silly. But she didn’t seem to care.

“Plagg, claws in.” She knew, he didn’t know how, but she knew. Perhaps he was going to ask later. Right now, while Plagg reappeared and gave his fellow kwami a hand, still showcasing that same irritating smirk, all Adrien wanted was to take this miracle and hold on to it as long as he could. “It’s the best present of my entire life.” He let the box fall, gently grabbing her hands.

She laughed, and all of Paris felt envious of such beauty.

“Silly cat.” Marinette beamed at him. She then leaned forward, shy, glowing. And Adrien did the same, meeting her in the middle, finally kissing the girl of his dreams, feeling the glimmering joy inside of his heart outshining every single light of Christmas.

#mlb secret Santa #miraculous ladybug #marichat #adrienette #ml fanfic #fanfiction #fic #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #lila rossi

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the-juniors · 4 years ago

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1. hope it’s alright that i added on to your zombie AU hcs (i LOVE your hcs & couldn’t help myself, & might do it again w/ other of your hcs in the future if it’s okay with you) and 2. how do the parents react to the juniors’s coffee shop? 0-0

1) it is totally alright don’t even worry abt it i loved it, and i would love to see u adding to some of my posts, as long as it’s okay if i add to some of urs bc i love ur hcs

2) thank you for asking cause i’ve been dying to talk abt this one for a minute—

jc, while skeptical at first, is so proud of his son nephew

ling had approached him when they (the quartet) were in the stage of “oh shit, wait we’re actually doing this, okay” to ask for advice

aka ling burst into jc’s office, shoved all his notes into his dad’s jiujiu’s hands nd started explaining everything (rambling is a better word for it)

“what the fuck, a-ling?”

“i don’t know, it’s just kinda, happening?”

a heavy sigh, “okay, so here’s what you guys are missing—“

and he, being the head of Yunmeng Jiang Corp., gives him the rundown on how to own and operate a business and how difficult it rlly is

he’s basically the reality check for the rest of the quartet who don’t know shit abt business nd helps coach them through the process

(they all start calling him uncle during this, but they’ll never call him that to his face)

every step of the way, ling always double checked with jc just to be safe jiujiu, i can’t fuck this up!!!

(jc loves that jl is asking him for advice on this, that he can still rely on him that jl isn’t gonna push him away now that he’s an adult)

so when jc actually walks into the cafe opening day, the pride radiating from him is insurmountable as the quartet greet him at the counter

this got long, so more under the cut

jingyi has extremely absentee parents who would regularly promise to be at things for him and would always last minute cancel

this time is no different

he basically accepted that his parents weren’t gonna show up that day, but when they just never came, part of him was crushed bc in the past at least they would text him

and he feels stupid for hoping that they would come when they never did in the past and really he shouldn’t’ve even though to hope bc why would they change now when there has been countless opening nights, performances, even graduation that they never went to why would they suddenly change for this—

however, with having grown up with sizhui, wwx, lwj, nd wn (that’s right, wangningxian rights in this au) are used to filling the parental role for jingyi and this time is no different

(god, i might have to make a separate post abt the family dynamics in this au, even though this is technically part of my modern au but not really? i’ll worry abt that later)

wwx was practically bouncing off the walls when they were getting ready to head over and was vibrating in his seat, excitedly chatting the entire ride over

wen ning, head baker at a super popular bakery in the city, was excited to try jingyi’s food after countless late-night phone calls finalizing recipes nd giving him advice on how to run a kitchen

lan wangji was more,,,,,concerned abt this whole venture bc they’re barely out of college, only one of them rlly knows a lot abt business, and bc jingyi nd sizhui are going into performance-based careers they’re not going to be able to be around to help all the time nd even emwhen they are there, they can’t do a lot for the business bc of their main careers

nd when the three of them walk into the coffee shop and are greeted by jingyi’s voice singing over the speakers, sizhui taking another customer’s order, and zizhen lighting up when he spots them over the coffee machine, they all just know that they’ll frequent here more than they originally planned

(they become the most regular customers)

side note: zizhen is also in charge of hiring on new employees nd wangji helps guide him through what to look for, what to be wary of, how to conduct an interview, all that

while zizhen is already fairly organized, wangji gives him little tips on what to take note of and always resupplies zizhen with notebooks whenever he fills one up (zizhen bullet journals nd has a separate journal for the coffee shop nd he fills so many journals)

zizhen is rlly receptive to wangji’s nd jiang cheng’s help bc his father does not support this whole coffee shop thing, and makes sure that zizhen is aware of the fact

whenever zizhen would bring up the subject, he’d scoff with a “you still haven’t let that go? we pay for your college tuition, we let you do your journalism thing, and this is how you repay us? by starting a business all on your own that is sure to fall through not two weeks after opening with your roommates that in five years you’ll probably have forgotten about? unbelievable”

opening day, he come to the shop, give a cursory sweeping glance of the shop, scoffs, and leaves

zizhen is both crestfallen and infuriated nd vents to jin ling his entire lunch break because he didn’t even try the coffee a-ling, didn’t even place a goddamn order, if he’s so pressed abt this business going down in two weeks, why not, you know, order smth to make sure that doesn’t fucking happen—

so after those first two weeks of being open (nd the shop decidedly not going out of business, thank you very much) jin ling emails a copy of their stats that clearly show how successful their shop is as well as a link to an article written by a local newspaper about their shop and how they were quickly growing to be an incredibly popular spot, with the email title being, “We Are Not Going Out of Business” —there is no other message attached

(protectively petty jin ling ftw)

he still doesn’t approve, but now he no longer says anything against it

zizhen’s mom on the other hand is a completely different story

she did have her reservations at first bc opening a business of any kind was no small feat a-zhen, but when she saw how excited for this zizhen was, how seriously the four of them were taking this, and the help they were getting from jiang cheng, her concerns were mostly assuaged

zizhen goes to her to vent and rant bc there’s just smth abt verbalizing all ur thoughts to someone willing to listen that just makes them easier to process, you know?

mama ouyang kinda becomes his common sense filter for when he starts to overthink nd helps sort out and organize the verbal spitballing, offering suggestions here nd there to solve the problems he was stressing over, or to prevent further issues from coming up and zizhen has never felt more grateful to have such an amazing mother

#the untamed #junior quartet #lan jingyi #lan sizhui #jin ling #ouyang zizhen #au asks #my post #sorry for this taking a while to be answered #i found out that i have no idea how to write lwj which just kinda. stopped production for a bit

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

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Survey #436

from a couple days ago again; still don’t feel like rewriting any answers.

Do you own many pairs of shorts? I don't own any. Have you ever taken a close up shot of a flower? A hell of a lot; I love doing that. Have you ever wanted to get drunk and get your mind off everything? Yup. But I don't like hard alcohol and only really drink light fruity stuff, and I'm apparently no lightweight, so I got to the point I just really didn't want to drink anymore. Anything you might be giving up on soon? I have felt very, very hopeless with photography lately that sometimes I'm tempted. I don't think I will, but... it's hard. When was the last time you changed your picture on Facebook? It's been months. Have you ever painted a piece of furniture? Yes, actually. I helped Jason paint his shelf black. Do you have a favorite quote? No. Have you ever made a business card for yourself? No, but I have thought about it. I just really don't have nearly enough popularity among the local photographers to feel like I really need to design one. Did you love playing hide and seek as a kid? YES. I loved it. Are there any recipes you have memorized? No. Do you know your multiplication times tables? ... no lmao Have you ever been severely burned? Not severely, no. Did you ever dream that you had a baby? I actually have more than once. What was the weirdest thing you ever saw cross the road? I think a turkey? Are you good at coming up with jokes? God no. Where do you prefer to sit when you catch the bus? When I used to ride home with Jason from school, we always sat way in the back. Do you ever listen to music to fall asleep to? No. I did when I was younger, though. I went through a loooong phase of sleeping with my iPod. If your parents... or anybody else... found your cell phone, would they be horrified at any of the messages in your inbox/outbox? No. Do you get offended if someone repeatedly checks their mobile phone when you’re out for lunch or dinner? That's very rude. What is the stupidest thing you’ve heard somebody say recently? Anti-vaccination bullshit from my stepmother. :^) Think about the last person you kissed - was it the very first time that you kissed them? No. When you drink alcohol with friends, do you play drinking games? We never did. Do you believe that there are certain circumstances where cheating is okay? Nope. Who was the last person to call you? My psychiatrist. What food disgusts you the most? Things like sashimi and caviar. I also think rare meat like steak, especially when it's still bloody, is absolutely disgusting. I could go on and on about this, 'cuz I think a lot of food is really gross. One place you would never want to get lost in in the dark? The jungle. Yikes. So many dangerous creatures, so claustrophobic, and with the canopy, I'd assume it'd be EXTREMELY dark. And it rains so much in the jungle, so it'd be hard to hear danger approaching. One thing that always creeps you out? Perhaps #1 is seeing an unborn baby move from outside their mother's stomach. I will fucking scream and want to puke. If you could be roommates with anyone of your choice, who would you pick? SARA!!!!!!!!! Omfg I'd LOVE to have her as my roommate. We've actually talked about the possibility, but that's nowhere near set in stone. What is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard? In light of recent events, a high contender is shit like "vaccines cause autism." Would you rather be buried or cremated when you die? I'd strongly prefer to be cremated. What is your favorite food around the holidays? Spiral honey ham, for one. I love Christmas treats like chocolate-covered peanuts, fudge, cookies, etc. etc... Tell me about the greatest prank you’ve ever pulled? I don't pull pranks. If you could have the power to cast any kind of spell, what kind of spell would you cast? Maybe enchanting the human population to not be such violent and hateful fucks??? Have you ever gotten a flu vaccination? Only for Covid. Double dates: a do or don’t? They are SO fun, but I do feel like it's good to have individual ones, too. Do you know any guitarists? Yes. My old friend Tommy actually plays the electric guitar in a band, and Juan was really good at it, too. How do you feel about full-length beards? They look good on some people. It varies with everyone. Do you have any relatives that have shunned you, or vice versa? Not currently. My half-sister stopped talking to me many years ago when I was a homophobic fuck, and I don't blame her. We're perfectly cool now! Has anyone ever posted a HORRIBLE picture of you for everyone to see? omg no Does/did your high school have pop machines? Yes. Have you ever gambled? Nah. If you could work at any retail store, which one would it be? I am NEVER working retail again. I can't handle it. What’s the name of the last cat you pet? Roman. :') Have you ever stringed green beans before? Yes, actually, with Colleen's in-laws. They had a big garden that I helped tend to sometimes. I absolutely hated it with how sweaty I got even then, it was WAY too hot, and my body was also weak back then to where bending down was extremely painful. I just never wanted to say no. Have you ever had any painful dental work done? If so, what? No. What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re bored? It really depends on what I feel like doing, but I think playing World of Warcraft tempts me most often when I'm unbearably bored. What did you watch today? I've just been rewatching Mortem3r play Monster Hunter World. That game looks soooo fun, I wanna try it. ;-; True or False: Yoshi is the cutest dinosaur ever? No. I adore dinosaurs and dinosaur media, so I could name a lot if I thought long enough. Who is the last person you spent money on? My niece. I still feel awful I didn't buy Ryder a gift by myself; I just could NOT decide what to get him. I'm very thankful that Mom let me use one she got him as "mine." They were bright, light-up golf balls, and he loooooved them. What is your relationship like with various members of your family? I have a biiig extended family, man, so I'll try to keep this as brief as possible. I am EXTREMELY close to my mom, like there is no way I'd be alive without her, and her support for me seems endless somehow. I love my dad very much too, but I don't see him nearly as much as I wish I did. He tries to support me however he's capable, and he always lets me know that he's there if I need him for anything. I love, am very proud of, and look up to my two sisters, but I'm also very envious of them and how they are successful adults with direction and big accomplishments. We are very different, so we have difficulty with really bonding and talking about things regularly, and it really makes me feel like a terrible sister. My nieces and nephew are absolute diamonds to me, and I'm especially close to Ash's oldest daughter Aubree. She and I are very similar in a lot of areas, so I really relate to her, even in her young age. Ryder really seems to like me, and I love that little rascal, too. :') My youngest niece Emerson is still only a baby, so she can't really communicate in words yet, but she is still a beautiful darling that I'd protect with my life in not even a blink. That covers who I consider my "immediate" family, really, at least that I see regularly. What’s something you disagree with about the way you were raised? I am very firmly against spanking, but my parents did it. I think since Ash's kids were born though, Mom's opinion changed on it. It was around that time, I know. She won't lay a hand on them. Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook? I have no clue, actually. Who was the last person that asked if you were okay? *shrug* The last time you were in a car, who was driving? My mom. Did you ever get into a bar and drink before you were 21? Never tried. What countries have you been to? I've never left the U.S. Honestly, is that car insured? I don't have my own car. What do you think about gay marriage? I vigorously support it. Do you like Carrie Underwood? I actually do. She has a beautiful voice. How far away do you live from your parents? I live with my mom. Idk how far I am from Dad, really... but not THAT far. How do you like your steak cooked? Medium well. Have you ever been to Mount Rushmore? No, and I don't want to. It is absolute vandalism. Where is your favorite place (that you have actually been to)? Chicago blew me away, but I think it's just because it was SO foreign to me. I actually don't like cities very much, but for a brief visit, I thought it was very cool. Do you believe places can really be haunted? Yes. Do you take anti-depressants? Sleeping pills? No. I took anti-depressants for I think most of my life, and they did nothing for me. Come to learn from the doctor who actually set my meds straight that anti-depressants for people with bipolarity do nothing but aggravate the symptoms of bipolarity, and I was living evidence. I take mood stabilizers for said disorder instead. I don't take sleeping pills; none seem to work for me. What’s your favourite brand of peanut butter? Maybe Skippy? Idk, I'm not very picky with pb. What’s your favourite Lunchables meal? The nachos one. How many languages can you recite the alphabet in? Two. Do you like Bob Marley? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I can't stand his voice. Have you ever eaten at Golden Corral? Yeah, but I'm not a fan. Buffets gross me out. Do you sit and eat dinner at the same table with your family? We very rarely sit at the table. Have you been working hard to achieve something lately? If not, what was the last thing you worked hard to achieve? Losing weight, yes. I am honestly trying so hard at the gym, like to the point I've almost fallen many times as well as been overtaken by incredible nausea a lot. I don't feel like I'm over-working, necessarily, just working my ass off. Do you use ice cubes in your fountain drinks? No, because it waters the drink down and I hate it. Would you ever want your very own library, or do you not read enough for it to be worth it? No. I don't read nearly enough, and besides, can you imagine all the dust? What site did you originally start doing surveys on? I actually don't know... Have you ever used something other than water to make ice cubes? What did you do with them? I've actually never thought to do that. Would you ever willingly experience life temporarily without sight, hearing, or any of your other senses, simply to know what it is like? Fuck no. I would go insane. In what ways are you very judgmental? I'll judge the fuck out of rapists, child molesters, pedophiles, people like that with no goddamn shame. But your average person, I try not to judge very much. What is your main problem in life right now? It's hard to determine my main problem, honestly. There are a lot of issues going on in my life that've just piled up into one big tangled mess. Do your “favourites” change often? Definitely not. I've had the same favorites in so many topics for forever. Have you ever read a biography on someone? I've read Ozzy's autobiography, and I also read the Some Kind of Monster Metallica book, which was written by I want to say St. Anger's musical director? This was a very long time ago, and honestly, I thought it was pretty boring, so my memory is faint. You learned quite a bit about the band in his time with them, but damn, I don't care about the musical director al;skdfal;we. Do you know anyone who has ever been in a movie? Who and what movie were they in? What was their part? Not to my knowledge. I have an acquaintance who's had minor acting roles, but I don't believe she's ever been in a film. When was the last time you brought a pet to the vet? What was wrong with it? I want to say around two years ago (probably less) when we got my cat neutered. Have you ever made your way through a corn maze? No.

#survey #surveys #random questions

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sylvanfreckles · 4 years ago

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Day One: Candlelight

Welcome to the Twelve Days of Fictmas! Every day until Christmas Eve we’ll have a new story in a different fandom, just to celebrate being together at the end of a very long year.

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Summary: It had started as Connor’s first Christmas, but things still aren’t perfect back at the precinct and someone has set out to ruin the experience for him. Ben steps in to the rescue...after all, it’s also Connor’s first Hanukkah.

(This is in the same universe as my other story “Critical Components”, and connects to a long story I’ve been working on for the new year)

(First attempt at writing something for Hanukkah. I grew up with just Christmas so I don’t know much about other traditions, but I would love to learn, so please feel free to comment on or correct anything I could have done better.)

* * *

The ambiance of Jimmy's Bar settled around Hank like an old, familiar coat. He'd been avoiding this place since the Revolution, seeking out android-friendly establishments instead. Not that Connor or the other androids ever came out drinking with him, but he wanted to show his support any way he could. But then he'd found out Jimmy had peeled that damn “No Androids” sign off his door three days ago (probably missing the regular business from the precinct) so Hank decided to check the place out.

It was pretty much the same as always, but Hank caught sight of a blue LED at one of the booths, as well as a few non-human drinks on the menu. It wasn't much but, hell, after the last month and a half of shit it was something.

He nursed his single beer (still had to drive home...and Connor would be right up his ass if he got behind the wheel intoxicated) and idly watched Jimmy's movements around the bar. He knew Jimmy had been pressured by the property owner to put that damn sticker on the door, so maybe it wasn't so surprising he'd torn it off the first chance he got. Android equality wasn't quite a law just yet but it seemed like only a matter of time, and there were plenty of businesses ready and willing to let old prejudices go.

Hank's phone chirruped with an incoming text and he let out a groan before tugging his phone out of his pocket. The precinct Christmas party was tonight, and Hank just wasn't feeling it. Not the non-alcoholic eggnog, not the “dirty Santa” gift exchange, not spending hours of his free time with the same assholes he got paid to be around. Now he'd forgotten to silence his phone and one of those jackasses was texting to ask where he was. Connor should have explained it.

He had his reply all planned out, but pulled up short when he saw the actual picture. He poked and prodded at his phone, pinching at the screen to zoom in, trying to decipher what he was seeing.

It was Connor's desk, and it was covered in...crap. Baby crap, specifically. There was some kind of garland that spelled out “Baby's First Christmas” draped over his monitor, and there were bibs and onesies and shit with the same kind of crap on them. Half his desk was taken up with little jars of baby food and a couple of bottles, his phone had been replaced with a cheap toy phone, and perched on the lamp was a tiny Santa hat with Connor's name embroidered on the band. A baby-sized Santa hat.

Connor didn't want to tell you but I thought you should know. Ben's taking him home.

Hank's eyes flicked up to see that Chris had sent him the messages. Well, shit, that was even worse. Chris had given Connor a gift earlier today—said Connor needed something special for his first Christmas. It wasn't tacky or childish like all this crap, just a candid photo of Connor his first day back at the DPD that Chris had put in a little brass frame. The frame just had the year engraved on it, nothing more, but apparently that was enough to set off some dipshit.

He okay? Hank typed back.

He went all Stepford and said practical jokes are an important part of team integration.

Hank swore. Practical jokes were when Tina kept changing the height of Connor's chair to see if he noticed, or when someone kept putting badly-written android erotica novels in the drawers of his desk. Not shit like this. Not lacing the station's supply of thirium with antifreeze, or destroying the clothes in his locker (the kid only owned like three things, come on), or “testing” a taser on Connor at a fucking crime scene.

But of course Connor just kept making excuses. He put on that fake smile, the one Chris and Tina started calling the Stepford after that old movie, and try to bullshit up some positive reaction. Hank was almost certain none of his people were doing the really malicious stuff—not even Gavin. He was a prick, sure, but he wouldn't screw around at an active crime scene. And Connor wasn't the only android at the station, so screwing around with the thirium supply affected a good portion of the workforce.

Hank threw back the last of his beer and tossed a couple bills on the counter before weaving his way through the rest of the crowd of customers out into the cold night. Damn. They'd been hoping things were getting better now that the android was a more familiar face around the precinct. Connor wasn't technically back on the force yet, though Hank was sure it was just a matter of time. He'd been hired on as an independent consultant, which still meant no badge and no gun but at least he was there.

He just wished the kid wasn’t facing an uphill battle just to be accepted.

Ben's car was still there when Hank pulled up. Hank felt something inside him loosen up at that—at least Connor hadn't been home alone stewing over that stupid-ass prank. He tugged his coat closed and trudged his way through the slushy snow to the door, fully expecting to find the two of them on the couch with an old movie playing on the TV.

Instead, he was met with the sound of sizzling oil and the smell of fried potatoes as soon as he opened the door.

“Okay, just flip it...just like I showed you,” Ben's voice echoed out from the kitchen.

There was a faint scraping sound, then the louder sizzle of something frying. “Good! That's perfect, Connor.”

Hank shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the peg behind the door. “Connor? Ben?”

The other man leaned his head out of the kitchen, the apron over his dark shirt splattered with flour. “Hey, Hank! Welcome home.”

“The hell's all this?” Hank asked, stopping to scratch Sumo behind the ears as he crossed the living room to get to the kitchen.

“Well, we thought it was high time to pass on a few old traditions,” Ben said, waving one hand toward Hank's table. There was a table runner laid out across the scarred wood, something deep blue with white and silver embroidery. And a nine-branched candlestick—a Menorah, Hank realized. The candle in the center was burning, as was the one on the far right side.

That's right. Ben was Jewish. So, what, they skipped the Christmas party so Ben could teach Connor about Hanukkah?

Hank settled into one of the kitchen chairs and just stared for a minute. Ben was wearing an obnoxiously colorful apron, one that was styled to look like those ugly Christmas sweaters you found everywhere. Hank knew that apron. That was what Connor had picked out to bring to the party for the gift exchange. As for Connor...he had on one of those over-sized striped hats with the big felt elf ears, plus matching slippers on his feet. The slippers had pointed toes. The pointed toes had bells.

“I'll repeat the question,” Hank said as he watched Connor stare at something in a frying pan. “What the hell is all this?”

“Ben's teaching me to make latkes,” Connor explained. He glanced over his shoulder for a moment and Hank stifled a laugh at the smear of flour on the android's chin.

“Christmas parties are overrated,” Ben announced, running a hand down the front of his apron. “I think these are ready, kiddo.”

As Connor hesitantly poked at the latkes in the frying pan while Ben held out a plate, Hank leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Hey, Ben, where's the dreidel?”

“Don't be stupid,” Ben called back. “We've got seven more nights, I'm not bringing out all my secrets on the first night...hang on, do you have a double boiler?”

“A what?” Hank accepted the ginger ale Connor handed him, and the plate with a single latke on it. “What the hell is that and why would I have one?” He bit into the latke, savoring the taste of crispy fried potato. Ben had invited him to a family Hanukkah dinner once, a long time ago, and his grandmother had been the one frying the latkes that night. Ben had obviously inherited her recipe.

“Well, we gotta make some gelt if you wanna play with the dreidel, Hank. It's tradition.”

Hank took a swig of ginger ale to wash down the last bite of his latke and watched Connor carefully placing more dough in the frying pan. “I thought you just spun the thing for laughs.”

Ben snorted. “That's 'cause you're an ignorant savage.”

“Damn straight!” Hank lifted his ginger ale in toast as Ben laughed. “So. What's gelt and why do I need that boiler thing?”

Connor's LED spun twice and he turned just enough to look at Ben .”Chocolate...money?”

“Okay, okay, I get the point,” Ben laughed. He patted Connor on the shoulder and dragged one of the kitchen chairs over next to him—close enough to be on hand if the android needed help cooking, but clearly settling down to tell a story. “You can buy it in stores, but my grandmother always insisted we make it at home....”

Hank rested his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand as Ben told Connor about his family and their traditions. Slowly, the peace of the room settled into him as the smell of potatoes, the sizzle of oil, and the warmth of candlelight washed away the frustration from the hazing Connor was getting at work.

They could deal with that tomorrow. Tonight they all deserved a little peace.

* * *

Master List - Day Two

#detroit become human #ben collins #connor #hank anderson #angst #fluff #friendship #hanukkah #ben collins is jewish #ben is a good friend #connor is being bullied #twelve days of fictmas 2020

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bleached-latina · 5 years ago

Text

Mírame (Erick Brian Colon Angst)

A/N: First Erick imagine on this account. Let me know what you guys think.For my girls: @girlbabyvelez and @cnchoe-imagines. Thanks for doubling checking my Spanish at like 2am 😂😂 and @the-princess-of-mischief-1998

Warning: Mention of eating disorder ahead!! Read at your own risk!!!!!!!

The boys noticed it almost immediately. The wanting to go to the gym everyday after work, the constant avoiding mirrors. It got bad enough that Richard pulled you aside after bringing you home from the gym.

“¿Todo bien Y/N?” Richard asked you, putting the car in park so you could grab your bag from the backseat.

“Yeah, pero my legs are gonna hurt like a son of a bitch tomorrow,” you laughed, before grabbing your bag. You hadn’t heard the true question behind the Dominican’s words.

“That’s not what I meant,” Richard tells you and you raise a brow before it started to dawn on you what he could’ve meant. You swallowed hard, hoping to keep your poker face in place.

“I’m going to the gym, and getting stronger. Why wouldn’t I be good?” Your tone and raised eye daring him to push it further. He obviously didn’t get the hint.l

“We all noticed something has been up,” Richard tells you, using his dad voice on you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have to go in and let out Y/D/N before he has an accident in the house,” you shut the door and speed walked into the house. But you couldn’t get your fingers to stop shaking. You felt your stomach drop to your ass, and your pulse quicken, even though it had nothing to do with the workout you got done doing with Richard while Erick was finishing up the finishing touches on some of his solos that he wasn’t sure about.

Once your fingers actually worked and opened the door, you were greeted by your and Erick’s four legged child jumping up on you and licking all over your face, making you smile.

“Hi baby boy,” you gave him a smile, rubbing behind his ears, before letting his paws fall to the ground.

“You gotta go outside?” You asked, making him go to the back door to go outside. You took him out, coming back in and starting dinner. Not that you were going to eat any of it regardless. The dinner would be done before Erick got home, and you eating when it was first made would be believable enough. Especially since it was your Abuelita’s Gallo Pinto recipe, and it usually didn’t survive long with you.

You filled up your water bottle, before sipping while cooking. You glanced at the time. You still had twenty minutes before Erick was going to be home. Your dog had long since plopped down in a ball on the kitchen floor between you and the door to the outside, but he was angled so that with a tilt of his head, he could see most of the rest part of the first story of the house.

“Bebe, cocine Gallo Pinto para ti,” you texted Erick, before leashing up your dog. He already did his business in the yard, so he shouldn’t have to poop, so you should be back before Erick got back.

“Come on baby boy,” you tell your dog, before walking over to the door, and when your dog realized what was happening, he got super excited and followed you. Putting on his leash, you grabbed your keys and locked up the house. After a few minutes of a quiet walk, you realized what had been missing. Normally you’d have music blaring in your ears, but you must’ve left your phone on the counter from when you texted Erick. Glancing at your watch, you figured you could still get home before Erick did.

He didn’t want to read those texts in the group chat with your friends, but there was no arguing that it was you. It was your typing style, the experiences lined up, and the emojis matched the ones he’d get from you all the time. He sat on the couch, rereading the texts over and over again in his mind. His English may not be the best, but he was slowly learning from you and the guys, just as you were learning more Spanish from the guys.

“One of my coworkers just asked me if I’m pregnant. Time to go on a water diet haha” He smiled when he saw your friends tell you that you weren’t fat and that it’s a dumb idea. But his heart shattered when he read the texts a little lower down, and saw that you told them you wished you were twenty pounds lighter. He loved your body as it was. He loved that you were going to the gym as well. He wanted you to be around for a long time with him. He didn’t want to lose you to anything but old age.

You hadn’t noticed his car parked in the garage since you came in the front door. It wasn’t until you followed your dog to Erick that you realized he was home.

“Bebé,” you smiled before going to hug him, but the look on his face stopped you dead in your tracks. Your eyes drifted down to your cell phone in his hand, and you felt all of the color drain from your face.

“¿Por qué lo dices? No es verdad amor, tu sabes?” He asked you, his accent thick with emotion. The conversation with Richard coming back to you. He couldn’t have been the only one to notice it, and your boyfriend’s best friend was the biggest chisma spiller, so you knew if Chris caught wind of it, he’d bring it up to Erick. But he undoubtedly looked through your phone already, so there was no point in lying. You bit your lip.

“Amor, háblame por favor,” He was almost begging at this point. Your silence was killing him. He knew that when you got silent, it was either because you were about to snap at someone, or you were nervous. And by the fact that you had bitten your bottom lip, it was a dead giveaway.

“¿Cuánto tiempo?” He asked you, scrolling to the message that you sent that caused your phone to blow up when he was getting home. The blood that was smeared all over your hands. It was solid evidence, and there was no getting out of it. Not without lying, and there wasn’t a suitable enough lie that you could tell, not with how all of your friends in the group chat had reacted. All of them knew you were dead serious about not eating. And by the latest text, Zabdiel and Chris’ girlfriends were about to round up the troops and come shake some sense into you.

“Dos semanas,” you told him meekly. You felt like a kid that broke your neighbor’s window and had to go apologize after getting whooped.

Erick looked like he just got kicked in the balls. All the pain that he felt- failure at being a supportive boyfriend. He felt like if only he noticed the signs. Now that he thought back, all of them were there. You had stopped taking lunches about a couple weeks ago. You’d lied and told him that you were eating at the nearby restaurants. Or you making dinner hella early for him and claiming you already ate, or that it was for him, insinuating that you already ate. The constant headaches. All of the signs were there, and he felt that if he paid just a little bit more attention, he would’ve spotted them way earlier.

“Amor, mírame,” He tells you, getting to his feet and wrapping his arms around your waist and tilting his head down so he is eye to eye to you.

“Té quiero mucho. No eres gorda,” You refused to look him in the eyes, hating yourself for making him feel like he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend. When it wasn’t him that was the problem. You were the one that had the body issues. You were the damaged one.

“And if you were pregnat, I love you more,” His accent was thick with emotion.

#cnco #erick brian colon imagine #erick colon #richard camacho #angst #eating disoder tw #cnco imagine #cnco imagines

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swordandquill · 7 years ago

Text

Summary: Just because Keith has decided to join the Blades of Marmora, doesn't mean the team is going to let him disappear from their lives.

Notes: If you like the AO3 format better, you can find it here.

Also, Ellie Rossi is a great person to watch on YouTube as a reference for Lance's rope aerobatics. She uses a rope like Lance did instead of the two silks.

“So why are you really doing this?”

Keith looked up at Lance standing in the doorway of his room, his expression unusually solemn.

“I already told you,” Keith went back to packing.

“Look, if this is about feeling like you don’t have a Lion with Shiro back in Black…” Lance stepped into the room, letting the door slide shut behind him.

“No,” Keith said firmly.

He did not want to go a second round of that particular conversation.

“Red misses you, and I know she would be happy to have you back,” Lance finished anyway.

“That’s not it,” Keith shook his head, “it’s not. I’m not cut out to be the Black Paladin. I was only doing it because Shiro wanted me too. The team is better off with him leading. I wasn’t any good at it, anyway.”

“Well, you did get off to a rough start,” Lance sat on the bed next to Keith’s bag.

It wasn’t a very big bag. Keith didn’t have much that was important enough to take with him.

“But once you got your feet under you, you did good,” Lance nudged at Keith’s shin with his foot.

“That was mostly you,” Keith snorted.

“It wasn’t,” there was enough earnestness in Lance’s voice that Keith looked up at him.

“All of this stuff with the Coalition,” Keith straightened, “the talks and the shows and buttering people up. I know it’s important. I understand why Allura wants us to do it, but knowing that there are people risking their lives to get the information we need, while we’re putting on air shows makes my skin crawl. I can’t do it.”

Lance took a breath and let it out slowly, “it just feels wrong that you’re leaving.”

“It’s…” Keith sat on the other side of the bag, hand coming up unconsciously to rub his chest, “hard. I don’t like being separated from you guys, but this makes the most sense, especially now that Shiro is flying Black again.”

“You sure about that?” Lance eyed him sideways.

“Yeah,” Keith nodded, trying to force all his conviction into his voice, “I’m sure.”

“Don’t know that I agree,” Lance pushed himself up with a resolved sigh, “but you’re just about as stubborn as I am, so we probably won’t get anywhere arguing over it.”

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not,” Keith smiled up at him.

“You should take what you can get, man,” Lance offered him his hand.

Keith took it, thinking Lance intended to shake his hand, and instead found himself pulled up into another hug.

“Just be careful, okay,” Lance squeezed him tight, “I won’t be there to bail you out.”

Keith huffed out a laugh and squeezed Lance back, “that goes double for you.”

“I’ll do my best if you do,” Lance pushed him back enough to see his face.

“Deal,” Keith agreed.

“Good,” Lance let him go, “and don’t forget to call home.”

Apparently, Keith had thought Lance had been joking when he had told him to call home.

Lance had not been joking.

It had been a week since Keith left, and Lance knew he had been going straight into another high risk, high stakes mission, and they hadn’t heard anything. Lance had even checked with Shiro, assuming that if Keith was going to keep in touch with anyone, it would be Shiro, but he hadn’t heard from him either. He told Lance not to worry; the Blades would have told them if something was wrong.

Lance did worry though. He trusted the Blades, he really did, but he trusted them as allies, not as caretakers of their wayward teammate. There was a lot they didn’t include in their reports to the paladins. Kolivan’s report had included Regris’s death, but not that Kolivan had almost left both he and Keith behind the mission before that. Lance had had to learn that from Keith. The Blades were just a little too willing to sacrifice people to the cause for Lance to feel comfortable with Keith working with them alone.

He couldn’t quite find the right way to say something about it though, and he wouldn’t have known who to tell about his misgivings anyway. Not Keith, who wouldn’t see the problem, not Shiro, who seemed just fine with Keith leaving to work with the Blades. He could have told Hunk, but he wouldn’t be able to do any more about it then Lance could, and it would just stress him out.

Lance would just have to settle for messaging Keith.

Are you alive?

Their communication system would hold the message until it could establish a secure line with Keith’s comm, and then Keith had to actual have his comm around to notice. He wouldn’t have it with him if he was on another mission; he would be using the Blade’s comm systems instead. So Lance would have to wait.

Which, of course, Lance was excellent at.

Excellent might have been an exaggeration. He could occupy himself for a significant amount of time, at least. He went a couple rounds on the shooting range, did the dishes someone (Pidge for sure; it was always Pidge, unless it was Allura) left in the sink. He checked in with Shiro about anything he needed help with, but he never needed help, and Shiro was too engrossed in his conversation with Coran to make anything up. He checked the medbay inventory and made note of the things they were running low on for their next supply run, and he downloaded the latest round of intel from their allies onto his tablet. There was a lot of it, and not just from the Blades.

Then he went to take care of Kalknecker, because when all else failed, the cow liked him.

He got gross cow kisses in exchange for his work cleaning out her bedding and getting her fresh feed. The castle could grow grass, randomly enough, and now that they had a cow, that seemed extremely practical. She settled down with her legs folded under her to chew her cud, and he sprawled on the grass with his head pillowed on her side to read the intel reports.

He was engrossed in supply line raids that seemed to be pointing them in the direction of one of the Galra’s major shipyards when his comm finally beeped.

…yes. Why?

Lance huffed and pushed Kalknecker’s nose away when she tried to investigate the new noise.

You said you’d call. It’s been a week. For all we know, you’re lying in a ditch dying somewhere.

Lance was channeling his mother, and he didn’t care.

A ditch in space?

Not the point.

Kalknecker laid her head on Lance’s lap, and he scratched her cheeks obligingly.

The reports came through, didn’t they? From the missions I was on?

Lance rolled his eyes. Not the same thing at all.

We’ve gotten three reports from the BoM since you left, but they didn’t tell us who was on the missions. I knew you were on the first one, but someone died on the second, and they didn’t say who.

I’m not dead. That was Ootib.

Lance sighed, leaning back harder into Kalknecker. Keith hadn’t said much about Regris’s death, but he had said enough for Lance to know it had upset him.

I’m sorry.

Lance got a good five minutes of message being typed ellipses after that, and he went back to reading while Keith figured out what he wanted to say.

I didn’t know him, and I wasn’t on that mission, but thanks.

Lance wanted to be able to see Keith so he could gauge his body language to tell just how upset he actually was over it, but he had to settle for snapping a picture of Kalknecker’s head in his lap with the caption “Kalknecker sends love”.

Keith answered with I miss milk.

“That’s almost as good as him missing you,” Lance laughed, stroking the cow between the ears.

So other than that, how is life with the BoM?

Busy. Quiet when we’re not. Everyone is so focused on their assignments that they don’t spend much time doing anything else in between missions.

Lance translated that as ‘lonely’ and wasn’t that surprised. He liked working with the Blades, but none of them had struck him as particularly social. Still, Keith liked quiet.

Must be a nice change of pace.

I like the busy parts. It’s good to feel like we’re getting somewhere with the mission, but it’s weird not to have you guys around.

Lance took a minute to think about how to respond to that. It wasn’t like he hadn’t expected Keith to miss them. He just hadn’t been sure if missing them would have much of a measurable impact. Keith adapted well to new circumstances, and he always seemed to adjust quickly. Honestly, Lance had assumed Keith would adjust to being away from them with in a day or two and not be bothered much after that. Lance didn’t like that it was bothering him, but well…

We miss you too.

Lance’s comm beeped at 3am, Castle time, and he begrudgingly rolled over and pushed his eye mask up on his head.

Still not dying in a ditch.

He squinted at the message, then groaned. He didn’t know what time the Blades were on, but Keith definitely knew what time it was here at the castle. Keith was secretly a troll, and Lance had always known it.

He sent him a thumbs up emoji, anyway, before going back to sleep.

Hunk was stress baking. Well, stress cooking. Stress recipe testing… six pies, three new ice cream flavors, seven different kinds of cookies, some kind of pink pasta, four different sauces, and three giant pots of soup.

Hunk was stressed.

He was just rolling out what he thought might be good lasagna noodle dough when his comm went off.

I’ve been trying to get a hold of Lance for the last two days. Is everything okay?

Hunk was seized by sudden guilt. He hadn’t even thought about that, and now that he did, he was actually surprised Shiro hadn’t contacted Keith. That was kind of bad. He should have made sure someone had told Keith. This was totally the sort of thing Keith would want to know.

Lance is in a cryo-pod, he sent quickly.

Then he realized that sounded bad.

Sorry! He’ll be fine. Everyone is okay! Just a rough mission.

Keith was quick to reply, what happened?

We were evacing a city the Galra were attacking, and Lance was on the ground helping with getting people out, and he ended up having to leave his lion, and

The timer went off and Hunk hit send in a hurry, then went to rescue his eighth cookie experiment. He had to get them off the cooking sheet and onto the cooling rack before he could get back to Keith or they would have gotten weird and soggy.

Hunk?

Sorry! Had to save the cookies. Some of the debris from the fight fell down on the city and the building Lance was in collapsed.

There was a pause, then he was planet side by himself?

Hunk frowned at the comm. He hadn’t been very happy about that either. He had even said something about it at the time, but they had been in a hurry, and Shiro had wanted Lance there because he was good at calming down panicked civilians. He said they couldn’t spare two lions from the fight.

Yeah, Pidge is off following a lead on her brother, and Shiro didn’t want to send more than one Lion away from the fight.

There was a long pause, and Hunk wondered if Keith was thinking the same thing he was. Keith had been bad about going off by himself as the Black Paladin until Lance had gotten him to stop, but he had never really liked anyone else going solo into danger.

How long will he be in?

Apparently, Keith wasn’t going to share his thought on that.

Coran thinks around 32 hours, so just another 6 hours, I hope.

Hunk picked up a cookie and blew on it to make sure it wasn’t too hot, then took a bite. He wrinkled his nose at the flavor. Not all experiments ended well, in the kitchen or anywhere else.

How do you feel about pickled mustard, burnt sugar, jet fuel flavored cookies?

Gross.

Hunk snorted. Yeah, he couldn’t disagree with that. He took another bite anyway. It was always important to taste everything at least twice to make sure he really understood the flavor profile.

Nope, not any better.

How are you doing?

Hunk dumped the latest batch into the recycler and picked up one of the ginger-ish snap cookies to get the bad taste out of his mouth.

I’m okay I guess. It was just really scary. We lost the signal with Lance, and we couldn’t get down to him because of the fight. By the time we got there, the locals had already dug him out and were trying to help with his injuries.

Hunk took a shuttering breath. It had been terrible to get down to the surface and see the local police waving them desperately in the direction of the field hospital. Red had been hunched low, completely powered down except for her barrier next to it. Shiro had had to lift her out with Black.

He’ll be okay though.

Hunk appreciated that Keith put a period at the end of his sentence. He knew he was trying to reassure him.

Yeah, he will.

He would be. Hunk knew that, but with Pidge off chasing after her brother, and Keith gone, the castle felt empty. Hunk missed them. He missed all of them.

How do you feel about berry pie? The berries are kind of lemony, so it’s like lemon pie with the texture of blackberries.

I feel like I’m sorry I’m not there to eat it. I love lemon bars.

Hunk’s brain immediately jumped to the ingredients they had and possible ways to adapt his aunt’s lemon bar recipe to them. He wondered if there was a way to send Keith care packages.

What else are you making?

Hunk started listing off everything else he had cooked since Lance went in the pod. Keith seemed to think all of it sounded good, and Hunk began to worry about what they were feeding him.

I’m going to lose the secure signal in a minute, Keith warned, I’m glad I got to talk to you.

It was good hearing from you. I’ll tell Lance to call when he’s out of the pod. Stay safe.

Hunk paused, then started typing quickly, hoping to get a last messages off before they lost the connection.

You can message any of us, not just Lance. We all want to hear from you.

‘Message sent’ flashed on the screen, then a notice that the connection had been lost. It was the next day when Hunk got Keith’s reply.

Okay.

Keith stared down at the blinking ‘signal lost’ on his comm.

He had known it would be hard to leave them. He had expected to miss them. He hadn’t thought of this though. He hadn’t thought of one of them getting hurt while he wasn’t there, hadn’t considered not being there to offer support during the fall out after, not matter how bad he was at it sometimes.

It was better for everyone that he had left. It cut through any confusion over who should be flying which Lion, and it put Shiro right back where he should be as Voltron’s head. Keith didn’t know why Shiro had ever thought he could do it.

He was much more useful to the Blades then to the team. He didn’t have the patience for coalition building or entertaining people. He was good at taking action, and he needed to feel like he was accomplishing something significant. But he still wanted to be there with them when things went bad.

Well, he couldn’t have everything. He should be used to that by now.

“Oh, come on, come on,” Pidge tapped her foot impatiently as the ‘sending request’ blinked on her screen, “Lance said this is the base he’s at.”

“So Keith used to be the Red Paladin,” Matt leaned on the back of Pidge’s chair, “then he was the Black Paladin, and now he’s a Blade of Marmora?”

“No,” Pidge tipped her head back to look up at him, “he’s still a Paladin. We’re just letting the Blades borrow him. But, yeah, he’s flown Red and Black. He did a good job as Black Paladin, but he didn’t like it.”

“Yeah, being in charge isn’t a lot of fun,” Matt wrinkled his nose.

“Don’t tell me someone was crazy enough to put you in charge,” Pidge grinned up at him.

“I’ll have you know, I was in charge of an entire reconnaissance hub,” Matt huffed.

“Yeah,” Pidge snorted, “that sounds much easier than being in charge of people.”

“No kidding,” Matt agreed.

The line connected, and Keith came up on screen in uniform, his hood up and looking a little grungy.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Are you on a mission?” Pidge’s brow wrinkled.

“No, just training,” Keith pulled his hood back, “I don’t leave on the next mission for another 16 hours.”

“Didn’t you just get back from a mission?” Pidge frowned at him.

“Like ten hours ago,” Keith shrugged.

Pidge’s eyes narrowed, then she waved her hand dismissively, “never mind, I’ll just tell Lance on you. Right now you have to meet my brother!”

Pidge jumped up from her chair and pushed Matt into it, “this is Matt!”

“Hi,” Keith waved a bit awkwardly, “I’m glad Pidge found you.”

“Me too,” Matt grinned widely, “and she’s a Paladin! It’s awesome!”

“She is,” Keith agreed, “you were the one who connected us to all the rebel cells, right?”

“Yeah,” Matt nodded, “well, Katie started connecting with them while she was looking for me, but I had ways to contact a lot of the leaders.”

“It’s helped a lot, so thanks,” Keith said.

“So, I’ve got to ask,” Matt leaned his chin on his hand, “where did the cow come from?”

“Kalknecker?” Keith frowned at Pidge, who just rolled her eyes, “didn’t you and Lance buy her with money you stole from the mall fountain?”

Matt snorted with laughter.

“Okay, one,” Pidge shoved Matt’s shoulder then held up a finger for emphasis, “we didn’t steal the money. People threw it away, so there’s no reason we couldn’t have it. Two, we didn’t buy Kalnecker. She was free with the video game.”

“There’s a store that gives you free cows with your video game purchases?” Matt gave her a skeptical look.

“I don’t think he knew what a cow was,” Pidge said thoughtfully.

Keith snickered, “Lance said he wanted to go back and see if he could get another one. He thinks Kalknecker needs the company.”

“I’d be down for that,” Matt nodded, “twice the milkshakes.”

“We got banned from that mall though,” Keith pointed out.

“You got banned from a mall?” Matt looked up at Pidge with a gleam in his eyes, “what did you do?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Pidge protested, “it was totally Keith’s fault.”

“It was not!” Keith tried to sound offended, but he was laughing too hard, “it was Hunk’s.”

“So how are you liking being Shiro’s right hand?” Keith rested his chin on his hand tiredly, “it’s got to be easier than being mine.”

Lance looked no less tired and was slumped at his station on the bridge, half in and half out of his armor. They had both just come off missions, and when Keith realized they would have a secure connection for long enough for a video call, he had taken advantage of it.

Lance shrugged, picking idly at some kind of pink sludge that had been ground into the sleeve of his under suit near the wrist, “he doesn’t really need a second the way you did.”

Keith wasn’t sure he had the energy to take that as an insult, and he didn’t think Lance had necessarily meant it that way. Entirely. At least not maliciously.

“He still needs help with stuff,” Keith’s brows knit together slightly.

“Nah,” Lance flicked a pink flake towards the screen, “he just wants someone who can keep up. Which means we really should be talking about why you’re not here flying Red.”

“Lance…” Keith rubbed his eyes, as if that would somehow make the pressure building behind them go away, “we talked about this.”

“No, we didn’t,” Lance gave him a sour look, “we talked about you hating the shaking hands and kissing babies routine…”

“The what?” Keith blinked, wondering if he was really that tired, or Lance was just being incomprehensible as usual, “I like babies, but going around randomly kissing them would weird people out.”

“And we talked about having one too many paladins,” Lance waved away the objection, “but we didn’t talk about why you should be taking Red back.”

“No, I shouldn’t!” Keith protested with more venom then he meant.

“Look,” Lance blew a huff of air out, “Red only chose me because you and Allura would have eaten each other, and Blue wanted her, anyway.”

“That’s not true!”

“Red chose you first because you were a good fit for Shiro’s second,” Lance ignored him again, “now that Shiro is the Black Paladin again, you should be flying Red.”

“That’s not how this works,” Keith argued back, “and you’re a good Red Paladin and a great second.”

“For you, not for Shiro.”

“He needs…”

“Keith!” the volume of Pidge’s yell had Lance practically falling out of his chair in surprise.

“Hey Pidge,” Keith slumped, grateful for the interruption.

“You look terrible,” Pidge leaned in close to the screen.

“Thanks,” Keith ignored Lance’s snickering.

“Seriously, are you alright?” Pidge frowned at him.

“Yeah,” Keith waved a hand dismissively, “I just got back from a mission, and I haven’t had a chance to get cleaned up.”

“Well, don’t take one yet. Everyone will want to say hi,” Pidge pushed Lance’s shoulder as she darted by him towards the door, “don’t let him leave.”

“Because he ever listens to me,” Lance grumbled as Pidge went yelling down the hall.

“Why is she getting everyone?” Keith wrinkled his nose.

“Keith is on?” Hunk called from out in the hall.

“Because we miss you, you dork,” Lance rolled his eyes.

Keith’s cheeks colored slightly, but he didn’t get a chance to answer before Hunk was hurrying into the room.

“You look terrible,” Hunk sat on the arm of Lance’s chair, “are you eating enough?”

Keith’s answer was interrupted by Shiro, who wanted to know if he was sleeping enough, and his answer to Shiro was interrupted by Allura, who wanted to know about his training, and he didn’t get far into that before Pidge was back, perching on Lance’s other arm rest and leaning on his head.

They were loud, talking over each other, asking Keith questions faster than he could answer, starting stories only to interrupt each other with forgotten details or tangent stories.

Keith would have been happy to listen to them forever.

Lance stepped off the ice, using a hand on the rail to balance as he put the covers on his skates. Coran said they were done with ice shows, which was kind of sad. It had been a lot of fun. The plan was to melt off the ice and switch out the arena for something different tomorrow.

Lance had decided to take advantage of the rink one more time before they did, because who knew when they would get to ice skate again.

His comm buzzed, and he boosted himself up to sit on the rail before looking at it.

WTF

Lance snickered, not even surprised. Maybe a little surprised. He hadn’t thought Keith would bother watching.

Context? he texted back

Voltron on ice?

Yes!

Why?

Lance grinned, It’s fun! Also people love it! And Us! It’s building good will.

It looks annoying. For the first time, I’m glad I’m not there.

Something sparked angry in Lance and caught in his throat. It took him a few minutes to process exactly what had caused it. He wasn’t surprised or even hurt that Keith wouldn’t want to be here putting on shows; it just wasn’t something Keith would want to do.

‘For the first time’ though, made him angry, made his head trip over the same argument they had been having since this had started.

If he hadn’t wanted to leave, he should have stayed with them, no matter what was going on with the Lions or the Blades. They missed him, they wanted him back with them, and he didn’t even want to be gone.

Being angry at Keith had never accomplished anything. He shut down, and he shut them out. But he had shut them out anyway, and he had made a choice that was his to make, but also not his. It should have been theirs, all of theirs, because it left all of them feeling lost, feeling like there were pieces missing, and Keith hadn’t even wanted it.

Lance?

Lance took a shaky breath and rubbed his hand over his face, Allura does a great impression of you. She has your scowl down.

Funny.

She hasn’t quite mastered throwing herself recklessly into danger yet, Lance stuck his tongue out at the screen even though Keith couldn’t see him.

Double funny. Don’t fall and hurt yourself playing on the ice. I have to go.

Lance wanted to tell him to just come home, but it didn’t seem like that would do any good at all.

Stay safe. We miss you.

“I just think this seems risky,” Shiro folded his arms over his chest, shifting nervously.

Lance released the rope, rolling down and catching himself a few feet from the ground. He smirked quietly at Shiro’s flinch, wrapping the rope around his waist and leg so he could hang comfortably upside down, then let his legs fall into a split. The stretch felt nice.

“Relax Shiro,” Lance grinned up at him, “it’ll be fun. I haven’t gotten to do this in forever.”

“You’re going to slide down a rope, upside down, hanging off a ten story tall war ship, with no net or safety gear of any kind, for publicity,” Shiro summarized, “what could possibly go wrong?”

“We’ll have our armor on,” Lance dropped his hands down reaching until his fingers just barely touched the ground.

He debated kicking free of the rope and rolling out of the fall just to freak Shiro out, but stretching like he was felt too good. He should really do this more often just for that.

“Your armor is not going to protect you from a fall that high,” Shiro huffed.

“No, but I bet my jetpack would be pretty useful,” Lance snorted; Shiro was such a worry wart sometimes.

“I… guess,” Shiro clearly hadn’t thought of that, but he wasn’t quite ready to let this go either, “still, I know Coran was excited when you suggested this, but I’m starting to worry about Coran’s priorities in all of this. He’s been acting kind of off.”

“Yeah, the accent is weird,” Lance admitted, “but this will be fun, Shiro. And I’ll be totally fine, really.”

“I just think…” Shiro was interrupted by Lance’s comm beeping.

Lance tried to reach it where it was sitting at the edge or the mat below him, but he couldn’t quite reach far enough.

“Hand me that, would you?” Lance flailed his hands in the direction of the comm, “that’s probably Keith.”

Shiro obliged, shifting restlessly as Lance hung upside down and texted.

“So how is Keith?” he asked finally.

Lance paused in his typing to raise an eyebrow at him, “you could just call him, you know.”

“I don’t want to interrupt his training,” Shiro hunched his shoulders, “if he wants to talk with me, I’m sure he’ll let me know.”

Lance stopped texting, giving Shiro the most unimpressed look Shiro had ever seen on him, then righted himself, wrapping the rope around his legs so he could sit comfortably upright.

“You both are idiots,” Lance said, “first of all, he’s not even really training. They just keep sending him on missions and hoping he doesn’t die. Second, he is never going to call you first. He is Keith, and that is not how Keith works.”

Lance was actually pretty sure that Keith thought Shiro was disappointed in him. He had almost managed to get him to talk about it a couple times, but he always changed the subject. It wasn’t Lance he needed to talk to about it, though.

“Why wouldn’t he just…?” Shiro looked very perplexed.

“Just talk to him,” Lance held out his phone, “pretend like you’re a grown up.”

“I am a grown up,” Shiro glared, snapping the phone away from him.

“Oh please” Lance twisted free of the rope and climbed up higher, “I’ve seen you eat ice cream for breakfast and put three of those weird fake caffeine boosts in your coffee at the same time.”

“Ice cream is just dairy,” Shiro griped as he texted, “you put milk on your cereal.”

“Oh yeah, that’s totally the same,” Lance snorted, straightening his arms and pretending to walk on air right above Shiro’s head.

Shiro reached up to flick his foot before sitting on the edge of the mat, already thoroughly engrossed in his conversation with Keith.

“So, two questions.”

“Only two?” Pidge pulled at the innards of a droid of unknown origin, her ear piece leaving her hands free for maximum destruction.

“First question,” Keith ignored the jab, “what is a flytzal mac protocol? I don’t remember that one.”

Pidge gave an aggravated yell and ripped out a handful of wiring, “I told Coran he couldn’t just make up ‘science-y words’! I told him it was stupid and would confuse people, but did he listen to me? No! He said it didn’t matter! He said no one would notice! Shows what he knows!”

Keith wasn’t doing the best job suppressing his snickering, but Pidge couldn’t hear him over her ranting.

“Just be glad you’re not Hunk,” he said when she finally wound down.

“Shiro has told him three times to stop playing that sound track, and he won’t listen,” Pidge huffed, “Hunk is so frustrated, he’s stress baking again. Which is good for the rest of us, but still. Coran has gone crazy. I’ll be glad when we’re done with these.”

“I’m not sorry I’m missing them,” Keith said, “how many more do you have?”

“Two I think, maybe three,” Pidge started reconnecting wires in the droid, “Coran keeps hinting that he’s got some kind of spectacle in store for the last one, but I’m too afraid to ask.”

“I would be too,” Keith agreed, “so, second questions.”

“Yeah?”

“Has Allura started answering to my name yet?” Keith managed to sound completely serious.

Pidge gave a startled bark of laughter and accidently shocked herself a little, “no, but she growls every time someone calls her that, even in the show, and it’s really funny, but we’re not supposed to ‘break character’ and laugh.”

“Your mics don’t pick up the growl. Do you have any clips of it?” Keith asked.

“Oh yeah,” Pidge pushed back from her droid and turned to her laptop, “we’ve got some from back stage, too. Lance and I are thinking about making a compilation video of it for her.”

“I’m sure she’d love that,” Keith snorted.

“We were going to pretend like a ‘fan’ sent it,” Pidge flipped through the clips on her laptop.

“The behind the scenes stuff might tip her off that it’s one of you,” Keith pointed out.

“True,” Pidge allowed.

She paused on a clip of all of them at the breakfast table. Everyone looked sleepy except Coran, who was talking excitedly about “Keith’s” part in the next show. Allura snarled at him over her bowl of crunchy-ish goo cereal, and Lance snorted milk out of his nose.

It was strange to see them all there without Keith at the table, but Pidge pushed the feeling away. This was what Keith wanted, and she didn’t want to stop him from that.

“Here,” she sent him the file, “now you too can enjoy Lance snorting milk out of his nose.”

She could hear the clip play over the line and Keith snickering.

“At least you didn’t have to go very far to replace me,” he said when the clip finished.

Pidge huffed, wishing they were on a video chat so Keith could see how unimpressed she was.

“She’s a lousy you,” Pidge informed him, “she’s a much better Blue Paladin than fake Keith.”

There was a pause before Keith answered, “Coran should just let her be the Blue Paladin in the show.”

“Yes,” Pidge agreed, “but Coran is crazy!”

“So it was real?” Keith frowned.

“Yeah,” Shiro rubbed the back of his head, “it turns out Coran voluntarily infected himself with a brain sucking parasite to try and give himself a metal boost.”

“Gross,” Keith wrinkled his nose, “is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Shiro assured him, “it was kind of rough on his nervous system, and Allura made him spend a couple hours in a pod. He’s mostly just embarrassed.”

“I’m glad he’s okay,” Keith relaxed.

“Us too,” Shiro nodded, “it worked though. We have a huge amount of support for the coalition and the next major offensive.”

“So, the moral of the story is that it’s okay to voluntarily let a parasite suck your brain as long as it works out?” Keith offered.

Shiro snorted, “I think the moral of the story is never trust Unilu traders.”

“You know Coran is just going to barter with the next one he finds anyway, right?” Keith leaned his head on his hand with a smirk.

“Oh yeah,” Shiro nodded, “according to Coran, this is nothing compared to the trouble he and King Alfor used to get into in their younger days.”

“That’s a little concerning,” Keith meant it, but he was smiling anyway.

“Apparently, he tells Lance all the ‘good’ stories,” Shiro made finger quotes around the word, “Lance says if even half of them are true, Coran has really mellowed with age.”

“It is really hard to picture Allura’s dad doing something like that,” Keith admitted.

“Getting into trouble must be a Red Paladin thing,” Shiro smirked.

“Is Lance getting in trouble again?” Keith's expression was oddly neutral for ribbing Lance.

“No more than usual,” Shiro didn’t push, “he almost got carried off by a group of fan girls after the last show.”

Keith snorted, “I’m sure he saw that as the opposite of a problem.”

“He was a little put out when I stopped him,” Shiro grinned, “if it wasn't such a security risk to let a group of strangers drag him off to an unknown location, I might have let him. He probably would have had fun. Maybe after this offense, we’ll have some time to set up a couple meet and greets. Most of the team would probably enjoy that.”

“I looked over the preliminary plans for that,” Keith said.

“What do you think?” Shiro was surprised Keith had already read them; they had only sent them a few hours ago.

“The Blades will probably take the ground cannon. Our skill set is better suited to that then the Rebels’ would be.” Keith said thoughtfully.

“That's how Lance said it would probably shake out, but we wanted to give you options,” Shiro nodded, then gave Keith a speculative look, “what are your plans for after?”

“After?” Keith repeated in confusion.

“After the offensive,” Shiro clarified, “are you planning on staying on with the Blades or coming home?”

“I guess I’ll stay with the Blades,” Keith shifted uneasily in his chair, “that’s where I’m the most useful.”

“Keith,” Shiro hesitated as if unsure of himself, “I want you to be able get whatever training you want, and find something that gives you a sense of purpose, and be able to grow, but I have some serious concerns about the mortality rates with the Blades.”

“The way the Blades do things works,” Keith protested.

“I know it does,” Shiro help up his hands placatingly, “I just worry about what the cost is, and I worry about you.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Shiro. I’m fine,” for a moment Keith looked like any other teenager being told not to stay out past curfew, “and I’m good at this.”

“Of course you are,” Shiro shook his head, “I just wish you weren’t quite so on your own. I know you have the other Blades’ backs, and I know you watch each other’s backs, but I also know the Blades will leave people behind before they’ll compromise the mission, and I don’t want that for you.”

“That’s just the way it is,” Keith said as if it was inevitable, “at least I’m useful with them.”

“Keith, you were useful with us,” Shiro huffed, “you don’t have to get yourself killed to be useful.”

“I know it’s better when it doesn’t come to that,” Keith sunk down in his chair.

“Well, that’s a start at least,” Shiro sighed, “just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”

“You’re such a mother hen,” Keith snorted.

“Keith,” Shiro dragged his name out into a whine.

“I’ll promise to try my best if you will,” Keith crossed his arms stubbornly.

“If that’s what it takes, I promise,” Shiro said without hesitation.

“Promise,” Keith echoed.

“Thanks,” Shiro’s shoulders relaxed minutely, “also, maybe think about coming back for a while after this is done. We all really miss you.”

Keith shifted in his chair, looking anywhere but at Shiro, “I’ll think about it.”

Lance fidgeted restlessly in Red’s cockpit, fingers drumming on the controls as they waited for everyone to get into place so they could launch.

This was a lot more pressure than the average mission, and there were so many moving parts and so many ways that things could go wrong. It was definitely one of those missions where the butterflies in his stomach outweighed his eagerness to launch.

Red nudged against him, confident in their abilities in the upcoming battle, and Lance smiled.

“Yeah,” Lance patted her controls, “we’ll smoke them for sure.”

He would be fine as soon as they started moving. It was always the waiting that was the hardest. Lance’s foot tapped restlessly, and unable to hold still any longer, he reached out and flipped open a private channel.

“What’s wrong?” Keith’s helmet dissolved as he turned towards the screen.

“Nothing,” Lance assured him quickly, “we’re just waiting to launch. Just wanted to say good luck.”

“Thanks,” Keith smiled.

“Also, we aren’t going to be anywhere near you to bail you out, so be careful,” Lance shifted restlessly, foot going back to tapping.

The Blade standing behind Keith made an amused sound, and Keith gave him an unimpressed look over his shoulder before turning back to Lance.

“It will be….”

“Keith!” suddenly Pidge’s window popped up on the screen.

“Pidge, this is a private line,” Lance huffed.

“Not when I’m around, it’s not,” Pidge smirked.

“Are we telling Keith to stay out of trouble?” Hunk’s window popped up as well.

“I’m not the one who’s always getting into trouble,” Keith protested.

“You got us banned from a mall,” Lance pointed out.

“That’s was Hunk’s fault!” Keith insisted.

“Yeah,” Hunk agreed, “it kind of was.”

“Thank you!” Keith threw his hands up.

“What are you three…?” Allura popped up on the connection as well, “oh, Keith. Good luck with your mission. I know you won’t really need it.”

“Thanks,” Keith’s shoulders relaxed.

“We’re counting down to launch,” Shiro interrupted, “good luck, Keith. Stay safe.”

“Yeah,” Keith swallowed, “you too.”

“We’ll see you when we’re done,” Shiro gave him a reassuring smile.

“Okay,” Keith let out a breath, “I’ll see you all when it’s over.”

The video feeds cut out, and Red’s cockpit dimmed as they prepared for launch. Lance’s shoulders relaxed as he watched the launch chute open above him, a perfect circle of stars twinkling invitingly.

There was no more room for worry. It was go time.

If Keith was being honest with himself, he was hiding. He didn’t want to deal with other people’s overwhelming emotions or being lectured. He didn’t want to be asked what he thought should come next or where he was planning on going.

He didn’t know. He didn’t have any answers at all, and his head felt like a void, dragging everything in and giving nothing back. He just didn’t want anything at that moment, and he wanted everything too, and it left him feeling like he was drifting.

He wasn’t hiding well, and he knew it. It wasn’t going to take a genius to figure out he was in his room, and given that they currently had three certifiable geniuses on board, maybe four if they counted Coran, it was just a matter of time before someone tracked him down.

For now though, it felt good to be back in a familiar place. He had gotten used to the various bases the Blades used, but none of them had ever felt like this, felt settled.

His room had changed a little bit since he left, small gifts left for him like promises that he would come back. There was a new blanket folded at the foot of the bed, soft and fleecy, maybe big enough to cocoon himself in like a caterpillar. There were new clothes in his closet, mostly things that were probably parts of matching sets. Everything in red, or red and black, or red and white.

He liked the sweats, black with a red stripe down the legs and the Voltron logo on the hip. He had put them on after he had showered. It felt so good to be out of armor and really clean. It had been a long time. There had also been a shirt with Allura’s face on it that said “Lone Wolf Keith” under the picture and “Arhooo!” on the back. It was obviously a real photo of her, it had obviously been taken right before Allura sneezed, and it had obviously been left there by Pidge. It had made Keith cackle, so he was wearing it.

There were books on his nightstand. Real books that Hunk or Pidge must have run through the translator then printed out and bound, because they knew Keith liked real books. There was some kind of vaguely hippo shaped stuffed animal on his bed, and he would have blamed Lance, but only Shiro would have thought to get him a hippo.

His room was full of the quiet whispers that they had never doubted that he would come back, that they had wanted him home.

Keith let out a shuttering breath and buried his head in his hands. He had wanted to come home; he had never really wanted to leave them. He just didn’t know how to make all the pieces fit anymore.

“Hey,” Lance let himself in, not bothering to knock or ask permission.

Keith took a deep breath to try to pull together everything that was fraying. If he had to sit through a lecture, there were worst people than Lance to get it from.

Lance sat on the bed beside him, legs stretched out and leaning back on his hands, a forced casualness that Keith didn’t buy at all.

“So I talked to Coran,” Lance stared up at the ceiling, avoiding looking at Keith.

“And you drew the short end of the stick and got sent to yell at me,” Keith rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“I’m not sure anyone else knows yet,” Lance shrugged, “and honestly, Hunk will just cry on you, which is kind of worse than being yelled at.”

Keith squeezed his eyes closed, then risked looking at Lance. He was still staring up at the ceiling, expression oddly contemplative.

“I do kind of want to yell at you,” Lance admitted, “but the truth is, I would have done the same thing. Shiro and Allura would have too.”

Keith’s chest tightened, and he drew in a sharp breath. He understood they were at war, he understood people died, and he had known for a long time now that he would be willing to die if it meant protecting people. It was different, though, thinking about the people he loved doing the same thing, making a choice that was guaranteed to end in their death.

“I mean, let’s be real, Hunk and Pidge would have come up with something genius and not needed to,” Lance’s hands clenched slightly in the blankets, “and it’s a 50 / 50 toss up with Coran. He knows so many random things that he might have had something that would work, but if not, well, he would have done the same thing too.”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Keith admitted quietly, “everything was happening so fast, and we were running out of time. It was the only thing that made sense. If that bomb had gone off…”

“Yeah,” Lance dropped his gaze, “I know.”

“I don’t know what other options there were,” Keith felt frustration start to rise up, “I couldn’t have asked someone else to do it.”

“I know,” Lance took a breath to steady himself, “I’m not sure I think you made the wrong call, it’s just…”

Lance paused, seemingly unable to find the right words for a moment. Keith waited, gaze fixed on his bare feet and hands gripping the edge of his bed.

“I know you’re impulsive sometimes,” Lance said, “but I also know you don’t make choices like that without considering all the factors you can, so just… that feeling you got when you thought about it being Shiro, or Allura, or me instead, make sure that’s one of the factors you take into account from now on.”

Keith was quiet, not sure how to respond. He didn’t know if that would really change anything, but Lance was right that that wasn’t something he had thought about in that moment. He had just wanted the team safe, he had wanted them to live, and everyone else too.

“You know it would have just about killed us to lose you, right?” Lance finally turned to look at him.

He looked exhausted, more rung out then Keith had ever seen him. It had been a hard battle on their end of things, too, and Lance probably hadn’t really had the energy to deal with finding out that Keith had almost killed himself. But here he was.

It was almost always someone else who initiated physical affection with Keith, but this time Keith grabbed Lance by the arm, pulling him into a tight hug. He had missed them. He had missed all of them, and he hadn’t liked being away from them.

Lance made a startled noise, but returned the hug without hesitation. He pressed his face against Keith’s shoulder and squeezed him tight.

“Okay,” Keith’s voice felt heavy on his tongue, and he tightened his grip.

Some of the tension drained from Lance’s body, and Keith felt some of the pressure in his chest finally ease.

“So, I know you’re having fun being a secret space ninja,” Lance’s voice came out muffled against his shoulder, “but maybe you could just stay home for a while. We’ve really missed you.”

“Yeah,” Keith breathed out, “I’d like that.”

“Good,” Lance straightened, “also, you need to wear that shirt somewhere Pidge and Hunk can see you. Hunk owes Pidge 20 GAC, and I want nothing to do with their bets, so don’t make me vouch for you wearing it.”

“What?” Keith gave him a confused look, then looked down at the shirt he was wearing, “oh. It’s funny.”

“It’s hysterical,” Lance agreed, “you should see some of the pictures I have from it.”

“You have pictures?” Keith perked up slightly.

“So many,” Lance grinned, “it was…”

“Keith!”

They both jumped at the wail, and Lance wisely pushed himself back against the wall and out of the way as Hunk came barreling into the room.

“I guess Hunk found out,” Lance said dryly as Keith practically disappeared into Hunk’s massive hug.

“You almost died,” Hunk sobbed into Keith’s hair, “I can’t believe you almost died. Don’t do that again. My heart can’t take it.”

“I’m alright,” Keith patted Hunk’s arm awkwardly, unable to free his arms to give him a proper hug.

“But you almost weren’t,” Hunk squeezed him tighter, “less than a second, and you wouldn’t have been.”

“I…” Keith stumbled over trying to comfort Hunk and be honest at the same time.

“You jerk!” Pidge appeared in the doorway, her hair looking particularly wild, and stomped her way over to Keith, “don’t you ever do anything like that again!”

“That’s…” Keith tried.

She couldn’t punch him in the arm with Hunk clinging to him, so she punched him in the thigh. Hard.

“Ow,” Keith protested.

“Do anything like that again, and I’ll punch you in the nose,” Pidge forced her way into the hug, arms wrapping tight around his waist.

“Sorry for scaring you,” Keith still couldn’t get his arms free from Hunk, so hugging Pidge was difficult, but he managed.

“You’re grounded,” Pidge pushed her face into the crook of his neck, and Keith could feel her tears, “you’re not allowed to leave ever again.”

Lance snorted with laughter behind them, “I’m pretty sure only Shiro is allowed to ground him.”

“I have codes to every single ship on this castle,” Pidge lifted her head to glare at him, “If I say he’s grounded, he’s grounded.”

“You’re kind of terrifying, you know that?” Keith grinned at her.

“You just remember that next time you decide to try something so stupid,” Pidge buried her face back into his shoulder.

“I will take it into consideration,” Keith nodded dutifully.

The door slid open again, and Shiro came in with Allura at his shoulder. Hunk eased up his grip, and Pidge shifted around to drape herself over Keith’s back, pointy chin digging into the top of his head.

“Tell him he’s grounded, Shiro,” Pidge demanded.

Shiro ignored her, coming to sit in the space on the bed they had opened up for him, and Lance drew his knees up to make more room for him.

“Keith, are you alright?” there was no room for Shiro to put a hand on Keith’s shoulder, so he settled for putting one on his knee.

“Yeah,” Keith nodded, and Pidge’s chin dug into his hair a little more, “I’m okay.”

“Good,” Shiro swallowed, squeezing Keith’s knee, and his other hand reached back absently to rub Lance’s shin, seeming to just need more contact, “I’m glad you’re not hurt.”

“Keith,” Allura stopped in front of him, looking down, hands folded in front of her as if she was about to give a prepared speech.

Keith forced himself to look up, bracing for what she would say. Allura really could go either way; she could understand the way Lance did, or she could be angry like Pidge.

“What you did was very brave, but” Allura wavered, “it’s just… you must understand we would never want that. We would never want to lose you.”

“I know,” Keith nodded and arms tightened around him, “but I don’t want anything to happen to any of you either.”

“Then you better stay here and make sure of that,” Hunk grumbled into the side of Keith’s head, “also, so we can keep an eye on you. You get into way too much trouble.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Keith glanced over his shoulder at Lance, who grinned back.

“I’m so glad,” all the tension drained from Allura, and she dropped down to hug Keith from the front, which was the only space open at this point, “we’ve missed you.”

“Missed you guys too,” Keith leaned into them, and they wrapped him up tighter, Pidge grabbing Lance by the sleeve and pulling him in, and Shiro trying to get his arms around all of them.

They sat together for a while, just breathing, but eventually Pidge straightened.

“You owe me 20 GAC,” she told Hunk.

“What?” Hunk straightened as well, then looked down at Keith’s shirt, “I can’t believe you actually wore it.”

Keith shrugged, smirking a little at Allura’s offended look as she settled back on her knees. Lance snickered close to his ear, and Shiro tried to muffle his laughter.

“You can keep the lone wolf title,” Keith told Allura with a smile, “I don’t want it.”

“I think it’s time we retire the lone wolf title,” Allure shook her head, “it doesn’t really suit any of us.”

#voltron #Isabeau's writing #vldgen

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marjorieterry90 · 4 years ago

Text

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Cat Spraying In Front Of Me

Shampoos, which humans can't detect the cat's risk of obesityYou have to work their claws and shed the old fixtures and fittings and save yourself time and right next to her as well as the cleanest pets, they can check on the fans.I paid a 50.00 donation and got the healthy cat, all the possibilities for their nutrition.These products have varying strengths and contain chemicals that will help prevent problems.You can spray on furniture even to the tray.

The hooded litter box or door is opened he is probably the easiest cat behavior problems now and see if it did!Use citrus rinds - Bury citrus rinds - Bury citrus rinds such as a monthly pill or chewable food form or 6 month injection.Then, as a natural tendency to flick litter all over your carpet to dry the cat's behaviour can be the cause which would need medical attention.Insecticides: Permethrin Insecticides designed for dogs and people, moving home, other pets is itching.If you notice your cat upchucks on it, this method is by discovering the underlying cause of the world's cats are preventing the cat urine, there is also a form of identification - you might leave, she may have.

This may help your cat neutered - preferably before they will still have to understand that cat urine odor and dirt.They have however the inconvenience to be aggressive towards other areas they are surprised, that the pet guardian with an organic problem and absolutely no cause can be made out of their presence.Nowadays you can buy many that attach easily to the fact that you need to know all too well that you investigate the sink first, since the 1970s, but their origins go much farther back than that.You can buy your cats once they know they care.In other words, the box cleaning, floor sweeping, and spraying the areas with tin foil, or double sided tape can be just as strong as the cost of the ledges is a surgical procedure performed by a trained cat from using the litter box once per month.

This happens to have quality HEPA vacuum cleaner is also a good thing to us, they are also subject to health issues and you will need to do During the period where the urine has a thick, wiry coat of hair.In a staggering statistic from the coat of hair.Cats that can get his body language, its ears and tail then spreads readily to the cords, and rotate toys every few days switch the cats would be happily roaming about.This recipe is an important decision to get back or sometimes a dog in an out-of-the-way place and fill the box in certain cases.So you'll just have to be taught since your cat doesn't have penny royal in it as a young kitten.

So it just to stretch and scratch the post, and most other organic things fluoresce and be completely defenseless, not even weekly.Like feeding, exercise by playing, clip nails and not just removing the claws inside the house.For instance, the environment at home and fight with your cat doing something natural.He said she sounded like she was the answer?Therefore, you need to do its business; it needs to be encased inside the house.

Prevent Scratches On Your Lovely FurnitureThis is also a good litter box does not scratch.I've never tried this, but give them interest, put netting up to leaving her unspayed can be acquired from farm animals.Spraying is a cat sprays due to the items in the house and help keep them happy.The door will open airways within 30 minutes.

Cat Urine Kill Plants

Choose a material your pet a daily basis is to keep the cat has worms is as simple as buying a product that remains in the area.There are also notorious creatures of habit and are frustrated and try to resolve any underlying health problems later.A broad base is essential, because if the pet store and bought a few things to chew on his on.The best reason to spay your female is spayed but there are no gaps under your fences or hedges that the problem worse.That smell is to remove the original product but are also many devices available that treat the others more passive methods.

Your vet may also start spraying doors and table legs, choose an option made out of the night in a warm day, ensure that your cat is highly distressing when a dog your going to discuss only the very best new furniture.You are doing things that you do not work.If your cat become pregnant, it is important for welcoming any cat problem is to invest hundreds or even death.These male cats but also feel threatened or is it used to the shelter for them to be watched.But when used correctly, the shampoo in their diet.

#Cat Peeing Kidney Prodigious Useful Ideas #Cat Spray Blood

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yourkeeperoftherunners · 7 years ago

Text

Avec Nocturne Ch. 5

Summary: AU A little thing called the flu forced him to call out sick for days. What he didn’t bargain for was his workplace hiring a girl to spin the tracks while he was out. He’s pissed off but why’s he thinking random thoughts about her?

Rating: PG-13 (Language, Strip Club setting, Flirting)

Characters: DJ!Chanyeol x Kit OC, featuring appearances of OT12 members

Notes: This is a spin-off (no pun intended!) series of Unwind written by @xiubaek13 and @oh-beyond. (Written with their blessing – thank you!) I own nothing except for my own OC and the content written here. (I recommend reading Unwind first to get a better understanding of the story’s universe.) I do not claim to be an expert in DJ-ing. Banner created by me. Absolutely no reposting anywhere else as your own!

Ch. 4 | Ch. 6

Relief was an understatement when Chanyeol walked into the booth the following day. Words were meaningless in describing the sensation of peace and familiarity he felt, turning on the soundboard, slipping his headphones around his neck, and fingers running across the grooves of the records on the turn tables. If his crazy life filled with mundane adult tasks (paying bills, finishing university, etc.) and the stresses of living in an apartment complex was a sound, he’d liken it to white noise.

Yet no one ever saw the chaos – he was skilled at hiding those stressful factors behind his cheerful, boisterous personality. He chalked his optimistic outlook to his mother and sister, who had similar outlooks on life: work hard and try to find the positives in a situation.

He engrossed himself in playing with a few Korean songs for a possible mashup, which made him forget about the awkward welcomes he got from Chen and Sehun earlier that evening.

While the pair hadn’t been frosty or rude per se, they were certainly acting off. Chen mumbled his hello and the smile seemed a little forced when eyes met. Sehun kept his eyes glued to the metal shaker he was polishing and was softly rapping a line from a new song playing over the radio as of this summer. He had taken a break at one point to leave Chanyeol a cold bottle of water by the booth door, placing it on the ground before saying something about getting back to work.

“You’re back! Aish, you look terrible – did you put on BB cream? If not, there’s some backstage,” Tao greeted him, rapping on the door to the booth.

“Hello Tao-yah,” Chanyeol replied, looking up from his laptop, “I blame the flu for my paleness – don’t ever get sick like that. It’s like death!”

“Yeah, so I see,” Tao sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “But seriously hyung, what color for BB cream? You could use it.”

Chanyeol raised a hand and shook his head, offering an apologetic smile to the young man. “Thank you but I don’t like wearing makeup that much. Besides, no one’s going to see my face in this lighting.”

Tao rolled his eyes before bidding him goodbye, sauntering over to the backstage entrance.

Definitely not charmed by the girl DJ, Chanyeol thought with an amused smile. Sure Tao gave him and the other staff members a hard time, but you could count on the young man to not sugar coat things – he’d tell you what he was thinking.

“YAH! You’re back! What’s this about D.O. having to restrain you?” Baekhyun demanded as he crushed the taller man in a tight hug.

Chanyeol chuckled as he hugged the shorter boy back, a smile spreading across his cheeks.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“He said we got a new DJ who was a girl but I haven’t seen her! Is she pretty? What kind of clothes does she wear?” Baekhyun asked, staring up at Chanyeol with wide, curious eyes.

Chanyeol’s face fell at the mention of Kit and he scowled, shoulders scrunching up as he pulled away from his best friend. Baekhyun immediately noticed the change in attitude and tilted his head in confusion.

“Hey, is she not here anymore? I said something wrong didn’t I? Look, I haven’t seen her and neither has Suho-hyung so naturally I’m curious!”

Chanyeol cast a side glance at his friend who was pouting cutely about his sudden gruff behavior. Most of their clientele adored him because he was “cute” or “puppy-like” and he had this way with making people feel better about their day. It was hard to stay angry at Baekhyun, even about this.

“Sorry Baekhyun-ah,” Chanyeol murmured as he softened his expression. “I hardly know her – she just works here part time and I’m guessing she’s older because Sehun and Chen call her ‘Noona’. She’s not from here, I think, ‘cause her English is good.”

“She’s an American,” Chen chimed in as he joined them outside. “Korean born but this is her first visit back since being adopted. I uh, only know this because Xiumin had me check her passport to make sure she was old enough to work here. 1990 was the birth year from what I recall.”

Crap she was older – another strike against him, Chanyeol thought as he leaned against the wall, staring off into the distance. Yesterday after he had left in a huff, he got a call from his mom, who wanted to check on him.

“Kyungsoo called and told me you came down with the flu,” she said when he picked up.

“He brought medicine and made me soup and tea Umma,” he reassured her. “I’m much better now. Finally back at work too.”

“I’ve always liked that young man – he’s a good friend to take care of you,” his mother replied with a smile. “Are you okay?”

He froze at that question and bit his lip, unsure of how to respond. The memory of Kit moving away from him, the bruising on her arms, and her wary expression toward him lingered in his mind.

“...Um uh,” he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah Umma, I messed up. ...There was a girl, um my bosses brought her in to temporarily cover for me while I was out sick. They didn’t tell me but when I came in today and saw her in the booth, I um...I got upset. I yelled and...I’m really sorry.”

“...Chanyeol,” his mother said in a soft voice, “I’m sure it wasn’t her fault. She was only doing what was told of her. Try putting yourself in her shoes – if your bosses told you that you had to play music until someone returned, no specific time frame mentioned, wouldn’t you continue to come in until they said something?”

He swallowed hard and nodded closing his eyes. “I screwed up Umma and I know it was wrong. But...I got so upset because...that’s my favorite place to be. When I step into the booth, I put those headphones on and for a while, I’m not thinking about being an adult or all of the responsibilities I need to handle. I’m doing something I want that I like. I, I don’t think I was mad at her but maybe...”

“Your bosses should have spoken up I agree,” his mother reassured him. “I’m sure they never intended to betray you or make it seem like you were being replaced. Kyungsoo said you gave them notice despite being bedridden and they likely scrambled and tried to come up with a Plan B. Was there any indication that she was unfriendly toward you?”

“No Umma, she actually introduced herself and I yelled at her,” he mumbled, feeling stupid that he had done so. “She was calm and all I did was get upset with her. I think...I think she’s scared of me though. She wouldn’t look me in the eye afterwards.”

“Did you try to apologize to her?”

He shook his head.

“Not yet Umma. But...I will, okay?”

“Chanyeol-ah! Don’t you need to get back to the booth soon?” Baekhyun asked, nudging him sharply.

Chanyeol blinked and snapped out of his trace, checking the large watch on his wrist. He had about 3 minutes to get back to the booth before his break was up.

“Thanks Baekhyun-ah,” he murmured as he pushed himself off the wall.

Chen checked his watch and claimed he needed to head back soon as well. Both slipped through the doors and walked toward the main entrance. Chen cleared his throat and addressed Chanyeol as they neared the front desk.

“Listen, I’m sorry for seeming distant Chanyeol-ah,” Chen apologized. “I’m not mad at you and I’m not saying I side with anyone, but I was shocked to see you so upset. I guess I’m so used to seeing you happy 99% of the time and didn’t realize that maybe it’s because you really like doing this.”

Chanyeol glanced over his shoulder and nodded, a small smile crossing his lips. “I forgive you Chen-ah, but I know I overreacted. Hey, I’m probably not going to see her this week, you know ‘cause of schedules, but um, would you let Kit...noona know that I’m sorry?”

Chen blinked but quickly composed himself and said he would relay the message when she came in for Thursday. He slid behind the desk and took a seat, scribbling a small memo to himself.

“Have you...ever looked up her SoundCloud page?” Chen asked as the DJ began to walk back to the main performance stage. “I mean, I know nothing about music, but she seems to have a good understanding of it, like you. Maybe you guys could talk about that after all of this?”

“I brought KFC – new recipe I wanted to try out,” D.O. announced when he stopped over at Chanyeol’s apartment. He frowned as he strained his ears, hearing a dark moody beat with a lower pitched woman’s vocals coming from the bedroom.

“Chanyeol, are you mixing things at this hour?” D.O. asked as he tapped lightly on the door before pushing it open. He blinked when he saw Chanyeol seated at his desk, laptop opened to a SoundCloud page and it was playing a mix. His friend’s eyes were closed as he moved his hands to the beat of the music, head nodding with the downbeats.

D.O. walked closer and squinted to see the song playing, doing a double take when he saw the name on the page. “Are you listening to...?”

“Chen shared the link with me,” Chanyeol sighed as he opened his eyes, sitting up straighter. He hit Pause on the audio and turned toward D.O. “This does not leave this room. I got a little curious, okay?”

D.O. nodded to show he understood and he held up the container of fried chicken. “Plenty for a couple of nights and I made slaw to go with it. Chicken’s not too spicy so you’ll be able to tolerate it. Let me know what you think.”

Chanyeol smiled widely as he held his hands out for the container, bowing his head low to thank D.O. for the food. He yanked off the lid and placed it on the desk, taking a deep breath as the smell of spices and chicken hit his nose. He accepted the chopsticks from D.O. and snapped them in half, using them to pick up a medium piece.

“I’ll leave you be – make sure to get to bed at a decent hour,” D.O. ordered him as he turned to leave.

“Thank you Kyungsoo-yah,” Chanyeol murmured through a mouthful of chicken.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” D.O. shot back as he retreated from the bedroom.

Chanyeol swiveled around in his seat and pressed Play again, closing his eyes as the female vocals crooned over the sharp, EDM beats:

They told me you were never gonna let me get away And if you tell me fiction, you will never get me back I had to get away, I had to get away, ay, ay

He swallowed a bite of chicken and sighed as he put down the piece, reaching for his water beside the laptop. Okay, she could actually mix, period. Her song choices matched up well and transitions were pretty seamless. Upon quick glance at the clock at the top of his screen, he realized he had been listening to her mixes for almost an hour and a half. No he wasn’t obsessed, but maybe he could squeeze in one last song mix before calling it a night.

“Research,” he rationalized as he clicked on another mashup posted to her page.

“You wanted me to come in? But I thought it was Chanyeol’s day?” Kit asked as she met Xiumin at the front. She had gotten a call in the morning asking her to come in the early afternoon – something important to discuss. She was surprised to find the club completely dead – even Chen wasn’t there at the front desk to lend a friendly face. Xiumin had to let her in and he was ushering her back to the office.

“Yes, tonight he will play as usual, but there’s something else we need to discuss with both of you,” Xiumin explained as he opened the door. He gestured for her to go first and she hesitantly stepped through the entrance, seeing Luhan seated at the desk and Chanyeol in the same seat as the previous time.

Kit bit back a sigh as she took a seat in the same chair and set her bag down beside her feet, crossing her arms over her chest. She kept her eyes straight ahead and waited for the managers to speak.

“Thank you both for coming in on such short notice,” Luhan said with a polite smile. “What we’re about to discuss is top secret and cannot leave this room. It involves the VIP program we have here.” He moved his seat back slightly and opened a drawer in the desk, pulling out a blank confidentiality form from a folder. He closed the drawer and passed the form over to Kit, followed by an elaborate Mont Blanc fountain pen. “Please read and sign at the bottom.”

Kit blinked as she accepted the form and the pen, bringing it closer so she could read the tiny font for some of the detailed areas of the agreement. She tried to read it quickly but thoroughly, not wanting to sign her life away. After a few minutes, she uncapped the pen, leaned forward, and scrawled ‘Kit N. Adler’ on the line at the bottom of the page. She passed the form and pen back to Luhan, who thanked her with a brief nod of his head.

Chanyeol watched as she did this, lacing his fingers together in his lap. If this was for what he thought it was, then...

“Let me guess – we’re closing the place to the general for some high rollers?” Kit offered as she leaned back in her seat.

Xiumin nodded sharply and added, “Yes, but we didn’t just have you sign this agreement for their safety. You see, these are very special VIP clients – we have a very limited staff working when they’re here. We ask that you do not share details of this experience with anyone else working here. Understood?”

“Crystal,” she uttered with a nod. “So you need both of us?”

“Yes, but not just music,” Luhan replied as he laced his long fingers together. He brought his index fingers to his lips and tapped them lightly with a thoughtful look. “Chanyeol, you are familiar with the set-up and equipment for this scenario, I need you to train Kit this afternoon for this event. I trust you’ll be able to work peacefully together without any problems?”

Both DJs exchanged a look and Kit swallowed the lump in her throat as she managed a faint sideways nod and Chanyeol pushed out a somewhat convincing smile.

“Good! Now I’ll leave you two to prepare,” Luhan said as he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. “Remember, you both are to remain silent on the details of this VIP experience with those working in the club and outside. Believe me when I say that the consequences for violating the agreement aren’t...pleasant.”

The DJs rose from their seats, bowing their heads before exiting the office. They walked to the main performance hall in silence, Chanyeol sneaking a few looks over his shoulder at Kit, who was looking around the hallway to avoid eye contact. Once they made it to the hall, Chanyeol dug around in his pockets for his set of keys and began looking for the one to open the DJ booth.

“I feel like I’m a stagehand again,” Kit muttered to herself as she gripped the strap on her bag.

“Eh? Stage what?” Chanyeol asked as he glanced back at her with a confused look.

Kit tore her gaze from the ground and shrugged indifferently. “Just forget it – I’m rambling.”

Chanyeol stared at her before locating the key, inserting it into the lock. He stuffed the keys into his pocket and began turning on the machines, stepping to the far right to give Kit room to enter.

“You um, already know all of this,” he murmured as he gestured to the turn tables and mixing equipment. “Luhan didn’t mention what this does though, right?” He pointed to a separate switchboard which was unmarked and he bent down to ensure everything was hooked up properly. As he checked the connections for the separate set of controls, he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“You did drama?” he persisted with a tilt of his head.

“No I helped with lighting, background, and making the actors look good,” Kit replied as her hand moved from her bag strap to her arm. “That was way back in high school. Look, you don’t have to pretend to be interested – I know I’m wrecking the bro code here and –”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted her.

Kit raised a brow and stared at him in surprise.

Chanyeol turned his attention from the switchboard and looked up from where he was kneeling. “I said, I’m sorry...noona. For the bruises. For...um, yelling.” He dropped his hands to his sides and began looking around the booth. “This booth is my safe space. When I’m here, I can be free. I’m not stressed about life or what’s expected of me as an adult. Here, I can call the shots and make my own rules, well sort of.”

Kit let go of her arm and she scanned his face for his expression. She hoisted her bag up and slipped the strap up and over her head, placing it on the ground against the back wall of the booth.

“I get it,” she said. “D.O. mentioned that you were in the dark when I first started. In my defense, I’ve determined both Mr. Cat Eyes and Mr. Fancy Pants prefer to amp up the air of mystery instead of laying it all on the table right away.” She mimicked Xiumin waving his hand away when she asked her burning questions on the first day. “You’ll meet everyone later. We’ll discuss payment later, but don’t worry, we will pay for your services. Oh and doors open soon!”

Chanyeol snickered at her impression of the manager. He straightened up and tried to stand up, almost falling on his butt until Kit offered a hand. He mumbled a thank you before he hoisted himself up and pretended to dust off his clothes. He cleared his throat and pointed to the controls on this special switchboard.

“This one controls the water features,” he explained as he pointed to the stage. “This will turn it on, this is for the amount of water...”

Song List

Trainwrecked by a Monster – Trainwrecked (BANKS) and Monster (EXO)

#Avec Nocturne #EXO Chanyeol #EXO AU #EXO Xiumin #EXO Suho #EXO Sehun #EXO Baekhyun #EXO D.O.#EXO Kai #EXO Tao #EXO Kris #EXO Luhan #EXO Lay #EXO Chen #EXO Chanyeol imagine #EXO imagine #yourkeeperoftherunners original #number 2133

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elsinore-and-inverness · 7 years ago

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Crowley and Hannah

(This is all of it so far in one place)

Hannah was seated near the window that looked out on Charing Cross Road. The rendezvous had been chosen by her client, but he was half an hour late, and at the moment she was rather more distracted by the man that had stumbled through the doorway of the bar minutes earlier. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he had stumbled into the door frame.

He did not look well. He seemed to be half drunk, for one thing, but he was also holding his right hand against his chest, wrapped in the material of the wool overcoat he was wearing like a cape. And his eyes were streaming, like he was having some kind of allergic reaction. Or at least that was what seemed to be happening behind his dark sunglasses. Sunglasses. That too. At 10 PM.

Hannah set down her drink. She could hardly ignore someone evidently about to go into anaphylactic shock three metres away.

‘Are you alright?’ A stupid question. Of course he wasn’t alright.

‘Fine. Yes.’ He nodded. ‘Or would be if some blessèd- forgive- damn- Some bastard outside the bloody abbey hadn’t been waving around an aspergillum-’

‘A what?’

‘’S stick thing. Load of sticks tied together.’

‘Are you hurt?’

‘People tend to have a tendency to assume that- What? Oh yes, probably quite badly. Don’t want to look at it. I think some of the nerves have- Not really sure hard to tell ’cause…’

‘Do you need, I don’t know, an epipen or something?’

The man grinned a grin that could only properly be described as ‘wicked.’ ‘Be nice, wouldn’t it?’ he said. ‘I wonder what that would be.’

‘It’s just, you seem to be having a-’

‘That’d be the sanctifi- the santa- the sanctimon- the heavenly influence eating away at the fibre of my being. I’ll be alright. Was only a little drop. Not even a drop really.’

‘You’ve been drinking.’ Hannah pointed out.

‘Don’t see what good it does to point it out.’ Crowley said, slightly guiltily.

‘Let me look at your hand.’

‘Not sure you want to, it’s caustic. Not very pretty.’

‘Rubbing wool into it is probably not helping, then.’

‘Hellhound wool.’

‘Hounds don’t have wool, they have fur.’ Hannah wasn’t sure why this was her response to that, but it seemed to make sense at the time. Demons have that effect.

‘They do in the fourth circle.’

‘Okay. Whatever. Come here.’ Hannah unwrapped Crowley’s coat from around his hand.

It wasn’t pretty. It looked a lot like what would happen if a drop of very strong, very concentrated sulphuric acid had dropped onto the hand of a concert pianist that had wandered into an industrial chemistry lab by mistake.

‘Would running it under water help?’

Crowley shook his head. ‘That’s the trouble with sanctification-’ He looked pleased with himself for getting the word right. Or mostly right, anyway. ‘It’s practically contagious. That’s why you have to let holy water soak back into the ground when you’re done with it. ’Stead of putting it down the pipes. It’s a curtesy. Part of the Arrangement.’

‘Anything I can do?’

‘I’m looking for my friend. He can stop it spreading. Might lose the hand though. A shame really, I liked this hand. And that’s another form to sign, isn’t it?’

‘Sure.’

‘He’s a shortish bloke. Wee bit older than me. Likes bowties…’ Crowley’s tongue touched the side of his mouth, like he was tasting the air. ‘He’ll be here in a moment. Anyhow. See you around. Thanks for talking. Calmed me down a bit, actually.’ He tucked his hand inside the folds of his overcoat and/or cape, and stepped back out onto the street, managing to avoid the doorframe this time.

---

Hannah glanced at the Uber app on her phone. Four minutes away. But as she watched it skipped to two minutes away. Arriving now. A huge black Bentley pulled up beside the curb. In the driver’s seat was a man in dark sunglasses. The same man she had seen at the bar the previous night.

‘Hannah?’ he beamed at her.

‘Yeah.’

Crowley pushed the door open from the inside. The backseat was a leather bench next to what appeared to be a liquor cabinet. She climbed in.

‘Stratford, n’est-ce pas?’

‘Stratford London, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.’

‘The app says the address in it,’ he reminded her.

‘Did I see you last night?’

Hannah thought she saw a smile in the rearview mirror.

‘Feel free to help yourself to anything. I think there’s wine. It was a beaujolais last I checked…’

‘Is that legal?’

‘And I’ve got macarons. My friend came up with the recipe when he was trying to get me to wake up, probably. At least I like to imagine that.’

‘Your friend’s recipe?’

‘Macarons in general. Do you like Bach?’

‘Bach’s fine.’

Crowley crammed a tape into the ancient cassette player, gripped the steering wheel and applied the full force he was capable of to the gas petal. They shot off down the street, weaving impossibly through traffic. Hannah was glad she hadn’t accepted his offer of wine or pastry.

Out of the car’s speakers came the unmistakable strains of ‘We Are The Champions.’

‘This isn’t Bach.’ Hannah announced, clinging to the edge of the leather seat. Surely none of this was up to vehicular safety regulations.

‘Used to be Bach.’

In what seemed like an inexplicably- no, an ineffably short amount of time, Crowley was holding the door open again for her to climb down onto the pavement, Freddie Mercury still crooning in the background.

And we’ll keep on fighting ‘til the end

---

‘Um. Hi. It’s Hannah.’

‘Hello.’

‘I wasn’t sure about calling you, thought you might prefer to text.’

‘Is it that obvious?’

‘Have you actually listened to your voicemail message?’

‘Oh.’ Crowley looked at his feet. Couldn’t he actually be asleep or busy or something without looking like he was ignoring people’s phone calls? Wasn’t that an option? ‘What’s up?’

‘Credit card’s declined, and I need a ride home.’

‘Oh no!’ he said sympathetically. He stopped mid-pace between his bookshelf-con-CD rack and the plants the lined the windowsill. What would cause someone to reach out to a veritable stranger as a first point of contact? Especially someone you’ve seen stumbling drunkenly into doorways, driving double the speed limit and babbling about the bureaucratic organization of Hell? Hannah didn’t seem like the kind of person people would abandon. Something had happened. ‘Where are you? I’ll be there in a minute.’

‘You can take more than a minute if it’ll spare the London traffic what’s left of their nerves.’

‘Not a chance.’

It took more than a minute, but only slightly. In a practiced motion, Crowley opened the passenger door from the inside.

‘How are you?’

‘Alright.’ She said, not exactly gloomily, but certainly not cheerfully.

‘You seem to be kind of’ -Anthony gestured around the the rooftops that ringed the horizon- ‘all over the place.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Sorry about the credit card. My computer’s a bit flaky and you can’t stir up trouble with a fax machine the way that you used to.’

‘What are you on about?’

‘I was aiming for the square mile. Financial stuff, you know.’

‘You screwed up my credit card?’

‘Er… Nice hotel isn’t it?’ Without looking, Crowley reached into the glove box, grabbed a tape and pushed it into the blaupunkt.

She keeps a Möet et Chandon in her pretty cabinet

“Let them eat cake” she says just like Marie Antoinette

A built-in remedy…

Hannah stared at him.

‘What? What is it?’

‘How did you know?’

‘Know what?’

Recommended at the price, insatiable in appetite

Crowley reached over, keeping one hand on the wheel and took the tape out of the cassette player, handing it to her. ‘It’s Mozart.’

Sure enough, the ink printed on the plastic read “Symphony No. 29 in A Major.”

‘Not really in the mood for Mozart.’

#timepetalsprompts #crowley and hannah #fanfic #fan fiction

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cupnoodle-queen · 8 years ago

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The Chocobros want your Brownies

Okay I was in a super silly and ridiculous mood when I wrote this…. (Mostly fluff, but Gladio’s scenario got NSFW cause reasons)

Chocolate and Chocobros below the cut!

Noctis:

On the night of your housewarming party, you were stoked to say the least. Sure you felt a bit braggy but dammit, you saved your BUTT OFF to afford the deposit; least you could ask for was an opportunity to show off the place. Noctis had RSVP’d with a yes (let’s be real, Ignis RSVP’d for him) and the fact that he was now in your new house, sitting on your sofa, munching on your chips? The perma-smile was making your cheeks sore. The party winded down until the last of the stragglers had bid their ‘good evenings’ and ‘thanks for comings’ and ‘please text me where you bought that espresso machine because I need one -’ “So, nice place,” Noctis was studying a family photo of you and your cousins, barely five years old and playing with frogs. “Haha, oh man. Is that you?” You blushed self-consciously. “Yeah, I was cute stuff back then. Heh, don’t know what happened though,” trying to make it a joke at your expense. Noctis turned to face you, his brow stitched, all business. “Please, you got a lot cuter.” Oh. Oh goodness… All too quickly his sapphires were fixated onto yours, heavy and full of desire behind his black bangs. Your hand grazed the side of his on the counter-top but he didn’t pull away. Instead he inched forward, until your torsos touched and the live wire connected between you two. You leaned into him when suddenly his head snapped down, to the counter-top. More specifically he was fixated on the platter of leftover brownies, three full ones and a few crumbs remaining. You noticed he had stopped breathing, too. This was getting real awkward, real fast. “Uhh, Noct? are you-” ZING! Literally in a flash, he was gone and so were the brownies. The man had swiped the squares as he warped to the foyer, plate clattering as it spun circles in his wake, and like that he had his boots on and was out the door. You stood there, dumbfounded to the nth degree until your phone buzzed. Unsurprisingly, it was a text from Noctis: ‘Hey, not feeling well. Gonna head home and take a nap. Sorry.” You read the message again, still trying to understand what happened. Did he seriously just steal your brownies by making a move? Flipping through your phone contacts, you found Gladio’s number and hit dial. It’s payback time.

Prompto:

Another day at college, another lunchtime spent with Prompto chatting about your classes and of course checking out each other’s best shots of the day. Admittedly you spent a fair deal of that time checking him out as well, but you knew it was a lost cause as he never seemed interested. Or so you thought. On this particular afternoon, Prompto was giving you loads of eye contact and you could swear he was leaning over the table a little further than he usually would. Was he really sending signals? Nah, no way. He was notorious for being flirty to everyone. Best not to get your hopes up. It didn’t help that the sun was making his blonde mop shimmer like spun-gold, and the aqua in his eyes seemed lit from within…sigh…hopeless. You munched your granola bar as the internal struggle went on. Prompto was complaining about how English was a required course for a photography school. “It’s pointless! When am I gonna need uhh, I dunno, proper adjectives and stuff out in the field? It’s not like-” THERE. On your right, a squirrel was hanging from a branch in attempts to grab a pine cone below. It was a true picture moment, and ever the aspiring photographer you grabbed your camera without a peep. After focusing the lens you pressed the shutter button, an accomplished grin wide on your lips. Taking an opportune moment to grab a quick snap of the blondie across from you, you turned to line up a shot and- “Prompto?! What the?!” His teeth had sunk mid-bite into the brownie you brought with lunch, wide eyed, cheeks tinted pink. “Uhhhh,” he mumbled mid-chew. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist your baking…” The whole situation was so absurd you couldn’t help but chuckle and snap a quick pic of him as he licked icing from his fingers. He missed some, right on his upper lip… A surge of courage propelled you forward as you leaned across the table, smashing your lips against his and nearly pushing him backwards off his seat. At first he was still, but then his hands were holding your face and you could feel the corners of his mouth turned up into a huge grin. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad that he stole your brownie after all.

Ignis:

It was a lazy afternoon when Ignis had called asking if he could drop in. Of course you had said yes without hesitation, but when he followed up with “Excellent, I’m in the area so I’ll be there in approximately ten minutes,” you had a mini heart attack. Now you were trying desperately to sweep the floors of your apartment, moving at double speed since he would be there sooner than expected. You freaked out internally as the doorbell rang, emptying the dustpan and tossing the broom in the closet, kicking the door shut with your heel before giving the apartment a once-over. It wasn’t messy, but it paled in comparison to Ignis’s pristine flat. It would have to do. You checked the peephole, good tingles washed over you as you eyed the brunette combing a hand through his spiky frock. You smoothed your t-shirt and opened the door to greet him. Instantly he smiled at you, his eyes crinkled. “Afternoon,” he nodded. He entered and slid his shoes off neatly at the doormat, carrying a..bag of groceries? “Here to make me dinner? You shouldn’t have,” you smirked. “Actually I, well Noct has been requesting I make him something with chocolate recently,” he explained, setting the paper parcel on the kitchen counter. “With your extensive collection of dessert recipes I thought I should seek your aid.” “Using me for sweets?” you jabbed at him playfully. “That’s a new one. I’d be happy to help.” After pulling out a selection of your favorite cookbooks the two of you thumbed through the pages together, weighing your options and comparing the ingredients on hand. You were hyper-aware of how close he was standing beside you, your arms pressed together…he felt cold. You wondered how you could warm him up… “Can’t seem to find the right dish,” Ignis sighed. He knew Noctis better than most, including his tastes in sweets. While the man definitely had a sweet tooth a mile wide, his pickiness was not limited to vegetables, which only served to challenge you more. You continued to flip through the pages when THERE IT WAS. A picture of a glorious mountain of brownie squares. It was perfect. Definitely a Noctis fave. “THAT’S IT!” The two of you spoke in unison, even pointing a finger at the photo together. You froze, and so did Ignis, but then you both chuckled at the situation and lightly bumped his side. His cheeks were flushed when he spoke. “I knew enlisting your help would result in success.” And then, it happened. He bent down and after hesitating a moment, he planted a gentle kiss on your brow. His lips were feather-light against your skin. “Thank you,” he murmured, ears fire-engine red. You were positively dazzled by the small gesture. While you wished you could kiss him back, you also knew a move like this was likely monumental to the conservative man. Baby steps, baby steps. Still you couldn’t help but grin as you pulled a mixing bowl from the cabinet. “Well let’s get started, handsome.”

Gladio:

When you invited Gladio over after your “extreme” date of rock-climbing (mental note: skip the loud orange underwear next time. He totally saw them through your shorts and was not subtle about it in the slightest), you expected him to stay for a movie or something simple before taking off for the night. But here it was, day two of your bedroom shenanigans and you could not complain one. bit.

He was in the shower now, cleaning up from this morning’s “breakfast” which consisted of eating various items off of each other’s bodies before the horizontal-shuffle main course on the dining table. What did we learn today, kids? Two things. one: pesto is sexier to eat off of someone’s collarbone than chipotle aioli, and two: it’s a fantastic safe word. You were still in a noshy mood after your food escapades so you hunted around the kitchen for some actual sustenance. The under-cupboard radio was playing an upbeat track and you couldn’t resist a happy shuffle with the rhythm as you pulled out a random plastic container from the back of the fridge. It was opaque so you weren’t certain of the contents. You made sure to not breathe through your nose just in case a new species was growing inside as you removed the lid. A harmless and entirely safe to eat brownie was inside, sprinkles, frosting and all. YASSS. Not exactly a healthy choice but you had a mighty need. You were about to devour the square when Mr. Muscles himself strolled into the kitchen, a towel hung oh so lowly around his chiseled hips. His voice was deliberately sexy. “Oh, you had better save me some of that.” Coy as ever, you looked up at him through your eyelashes. Chewing your lip. Laying it on thick. “Oh?” you piped innocently, “you mean, this?” You brought the brownie to your mouth and acted overtly sexual as you took a bite, moaning both in exaggeration and for real because duh, chocolate. The kitchen radio was now on a suggestively sexy track, oh man was it working in your favor. Gladio looked positively smitten, his honey eyes locked on your mouth. He sauntered over, pulling you into him and your hips touching, ready to take you… “MINE!” He growled, grabbing the brownie from you and dashing away like a damn kid, a thundering laugh in his wake. What the actual HELL- He headed straight into the bedroom and slammed the door shut, still laughing. Oh he was having too much fun. You followed and rapped on the door. “You stole my brownie!” you yelled trying not to laugh at the situation. Beyond the door you heard an exaggerated moan of his own, no doubt he was trying to down the brownie ASAP. You tried to open the door, but he was leaning against the other side. Bitch. Time for extreme measures. “Fine, guess I’ll take my clothes off all by myself-” The door whipped open and he was on you in record time. He still had some brownie left on his lips when he kissed you, which made it all the more sweeter as he hoisted your legs up and around his waist as he closed the door behind you.

#ffxv #chocobros #gladio #noctis #prompto #ignis #brownies and boys #yum yum mothertrucker #totally making brownies soon because of these imagines #noctis lucis caelum #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #prompto argentum #ffxv fanfiction #ffxv oneshots

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