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#but the mistake I did was perfectly fixable and could still be fixed
icejello · 1 year
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It's just a little mistake
A/N: Here's some Kavehtham angst (if you can consider it as that) that I thought off just before falling asleep. This is also in honor of Kaveh's character story bcs i love that man so much (tw: anxiety attack?)
A delicious aroma wafted through the house and eventually reached Al Haitham's nose as he tried to focus on the task he had to solve as the Acting Grand Sage, which really in his defense he would rather not do it but Lesser Lord Kusanali insisted on making him the Grand Sage and-
He snapped out of his train of thoughts when he felt someone poke his shoulder. He turned his head to see his roommate standing behind him with his arms crossed. They stared at each other in silence before Kaveh rolls his eyes and started to make some hand gestures. Turn off your noise cancelling. Seeing that, Al Haitham realized that he indeed has his noise cancelling on and Kaveh had probably spent the last few minutes calling him.
"What is it, Kaveh? I'm working." He turned it off and the sounds of his surroundings greeted his ears, along with the sound of Kaveh's annoyed foot tapping.
"I've been calling, no yelling your name for the past few minutes just so you know," Kaveh stated with a glare thrown at him.
"Oh really? I did not hear you," Al Haitham shrugged and turned back to the papers on his desk.
"An apology would be nice, Acting Grand Sage," Kaveh emphasized on his title and Al Haitham did not held back the small smile on his face as he replied, "I don't see why I should, Light of Kshahrewar." With his face turned around, Kaveh wouldn't be able to see the small smile on his face anyways and if Al Haitham had to be honest, bantering with Kaveh right now would be a thousand times better than dealing with the papers on his desk.
"You are so annoying," Al Haitham merely hums at his words as he rereads the words written on the paper. "Hey! Don't ignore me!" "Well hurry up and say what your purpose is for coming here then," was all the answer Kaveh received and the blonde contemplated smacking the back of his junior's head.
"I made some pie and was calling you to eat it together," Al Haitham stopped reading when he heard those words, "but you can forget about eating it now with that attitude of yours!" Al Haitham turned around in surprise to look at the blonde, a slight blush seems to decorate his face. "You made pie?" "Did you not hear a single word I said-" "Why?" Kaveh stopped talking when Al Haitham cut him off and stared at him before looking away and answering, "you just seemed stressed these days with your job so I thought I'd make you some pie since you like them and-"
"You made pie for me?" Al Haitham was even more surprised now. "I- yes- You know what forget it, I'm just going to go and eat it alone now," Kaveh turned around to leave and Al Haitham quickly followed after him. "Why are you following me?" "This is my house, I can go anywhere I want," "Is there a reason you're going to the dining room with me right now?" "... There's pie,"
Kaveh stops and turns to look at him. "Are you kidding me, Al Haitham? I just said you can't have it," "You also said you made it for me specifically," "That is not the point!" Al Haitham simply walks past him and pulls out a chair at the dining table. He could hear Kaveh muttering to himself from the door as he walks to the kitchen counter to take the pie, pretty sure he also heard some curse words there but it only made Al Haitham amused.
"Here, take it since you want to eat it so badly." Al Haitham stared at the slice of pie in front of him before staring at Kaveh who was standing beside him. "What? What is it? Why are you staring at me?" "There's only one slice," "Are you seriously asking for more you-" "No, where's yours?" Kaveh shut his mouth at that question.
"Where's yours, Kaveh?" Al Haitham repeated his question again. "I'll eat mine later so stop your complaining and just eat it," "You said you wanted to eat together," "I also said you weren't supposed to get any," Kaveh glared at him so he just sighs and turn his attention back to the slice of pie. He was about to eat it but turned his gaze back to Kaveh again, "aren't you going to sit?" "I- I'm fine with standing." Kaveh crossed his arms and threw yet another glare at Al Haitham. "Can you eat it already?" "Why are you being so nervous about this pie?" "I made it! Of course I want to know what you think of it!" "This is the usual pie you make for me though, isn't it?" "Just shut your mouth and eat it already!" Kaveh had enough and immediately took the spoon and shoved a spoonful into Al Haitham's mouth which did an amazing job at shutting him up.
"So? How is it?" Kaveh didn't understand it himself why he's feeling nervous about what Al Haitham's opinion is. Knowing his roommate, it definitely would only be criticism to mock him and rile him up even more but still he was nervous about it. Al Haitham was silent for a while even after Kaveh could see that he had swallowed it. "What is it? You're being so silent, was it that good that it made you speechless?" Kaveh would prefer to be optimistic because surely it couldn't be that bad that Al Haitham is rendered speechless.
"Kaveh did you..." Al Haitham trailed off as he stares at the pie before looking at the blonde. "Did I what? Al Haitham finish that sentence, did I what?" He became even more nervous as the feelings of anxiety starts to flood in. "... did you change your recipe? Or is it just me that tasted it differently?" Kaveh felt his heart seemed to stop dead at that time. Stopped before racing up and the sound of his thundering heartbeat seemed to fill his ears. He did not change the recipe.
He instantly ate a spoonful of the pie and the world seemed to stop dead as realization washed over him. He had messed up the recipe. Panic rushed over him as he starts running through the process while he was making the pie, was it the sugar? It seemed to taste a bit plain or did he not cook it enough? Where did he messed up? How did he messed up? What did he do wrong? He stood there frozen as his hand gripped the spoon harder.
"Kaveh...?" Kaveh muttered something under his breath which Al Haitham didn't quite catch. "Kaveh? What did you say?" "I... I messed up the recipe," the answer was barely a whisper which Al Haitham almost didn't hear. He studied the blonde's face and recognize the look on his face. Kaveh was having anxiety attack.
"Kaveh, its alright, the pie still tastes fine, I can still eat it." Al Haitham made a move to reach for the plate but Kaveh quickly pulled it away. "Kaveh...?" "No, don't- don't eat it anymore, don't even- don't touch it." His eyes seemed to shake in fear and Al Haitham notes the way his hands are shaking while holding onto the plate and spoon. "Kaveh I'm telling you its alright, the pie can still be eaten-" Kaveh shook his head as he slowly backs away.
"It- it can't Al Haitham, I messed the recipe up, I should- I should throw this away. Yeah, I'll throw it away and maybe..." He stopped talking as he stares at the slice of pie. "No, what am I kidding? I can't make a new one, I'll mess it up again, I'm- I'm sorry Al Haitham, I wanted to make this for you but I can't even do something like this nicely." Kaveh turned around and went to take the rest of the pie.
"Kaveh, listen to me, the pie is alright, you don't need to throw it away." Al Haitham felt a slight panic inside him. He wasn't the best person to go to when it comes to comforting someone. He was awkward with it especially with his difficulty to really express feelings. Right now, he needs to comfort Kaveh and bring him out of his head. Al Haitham watches as Kaveh seemed to ignore him but he knows it wasn't intentional, Kaveh must be having a rush of thoughts in his head, it would be filled with panic that Haitham needs to pull him out of. "Kaveh snap out of it and listen to me. Look at me Kaveh please, listen to me."
Al Haitham grabbed Kaveh's face to force him look at him. His cheeks were damp and Al Haitham could see the tears in his eyes. Kaveh was crying. "Why are you crying?" "I messed up the recipe, you must be annoyed I mean these are your ingredients after all and I just wasted them like that, I'm sorry I'll buy it again to replace it. You probably wouldn't want to accept that I mean-" Kaveh continued rambling as more tears spilled down his cheeks.
"Why are you crying, Light of Kshahrewar?" There was a new softness in Al Haitham's voice as his gaze seemed to soften and look at Kaveh with a rare gentleness and care. "I don't- I don't know, aren't you mad? I just wasted the ingredients you brought and we can't even eat it and.... I don't know, Al Haitham, I don't know." The softness seemed to made him feel worse, his voice cracked as he questions why Al Haitham is looking at him so softly instead of angry, pissed or annoyed.
"No, Kaveh, I'm not angry at you and you did nothing wrong." Al Haitham wiped Kaveh's tears away with his thumb and gave his cheeks a soft caress. "But I messed up the recipe, I ruined the pie I-" "You did nothing wrong, my love." Al Haitham rarely referred to Kaveh as that. Actually, he rarely ever calls him anything other than his name or Light of Kshahrewar. He was not the type to use nicknames but there were rare moments where he would. Kaveh's lips trembled as Al Haitham continues to show that rare softness and tenderness of his.
"Are you... Are you really not angry? At all?" Instead of answering, Al Haitham kissed his cheeks where he had just wiped his tears off. The left side and then the right side. Surprisingly, he pressed another kiss at his forehead, this time longer than the other two were before pulling back to look into Kaveh's eyes. "I'm not angry, now stop crying, you're ruining your make-up."
It was not a surprise to Kaveh that Al Haitham does not try to comfort him more. He understood well enough that he struggles to even express his true feelings but seeing him try nonetheless was more than enough. "Shut up, I know my face looks alright or you would have a smudge on your lips." "What do you know? I already wiped your tears before kissing you," realization crashed over Kaveh as he grabbed Al Haitham's hands. "Is my make-up really ruined? Oh my archons, I must look hideous right now."
A chuckle slipped past Al Haitham's lips as he smiles at Kaveh. "I'm joking, you look fine." Kaveh squints his eyes at him, "no I don't believe you." He tried to pull away but Al Haitham wrapped his arms around Kaveh's waist instead, trapping him in an embrace. Kaveh froze before slowly wrapping his arms around Al Haitham's neck and nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck, catching a whiff of Al Haitham scent.
"Thank you, love," it was a whisper quiet enough to make sure only Kaveh would hear it even though it was only them in the house. It was as if those words were for him and him alone, not for the world or the archons to hear. He simply hugged Al Haitham tighter as an answer. "Care to join me and eat some pie?" Al Haitham offered him a smile as he pulled away. "Alright but I'm going to check my check my face first, no doubt I look like a mess." With one last kiss, Al Haitham let Kaveh go as he walks away towards the bathroom. Al Haitham busied himself by cutting a slice for Kaveh and that's when a yell that he was sure the whole of Sumeru could hear. "Al Haitham, you liar! I hate you!" The Acting Grand Sage just smirks as he eats a spoonful of pie.
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sass-and-suspenders · 5 years
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His Heart (Part 2)
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GIF from plutoandpersephone
Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader
Words: 1,347
Prompt: Part 2 of the story based on the song Straight Through My Heart for @thefanficfaerie‘s Backstreet Boys Challenge. You can find Part One here
Author’s Note: Shout-out to @madpanda75​​ who listened to me moan about my writer’s block and then somehow resisted the urge to smack me when I started complaining about the stuff I did write. You’re the best
Since leaving Rafael on the courthouse steps, your conversation with him played in your mind on an endless loop. It consumed your thoughts, worming its way into the places normally reserved for 90s boy band lyrics. The night passed frustratingly slow with sleep eluding you, leaving your mind free to ruminate over what had been said and, perhaps more importantly, not said. The various tricks you tried to fall asleep were useless -no amount of imaginary sheep, warm milk, or calming whale sounds could quiet your mind. You eventually resigned yourself to your fate, letting your thoughts wander down a rabbit hole until the first light of dawn shone through your curtains. Instead of insight, the only thing you managed to gain were dark circles under your eyes.
As you made your way to One Hogan Place, you were surprised no one mistook you for a member of the walking dead. Yawning, you unlocked your office door and stared longingly at your couch. With back-to-back court sessions today, you would barely have enough time to eat, let alone take a nap. The silver lining, at least, was that being in court all day provided the perfect excuse to avoid Rafael. The last thing you wanted was to run into him and be forced to awkwardly tiptoe around last night’s conversation.
But if there was one thing you should have known by now it’s that you don’t always get what you want.
Reluctantly detaching your gaze from your couch, you found Rafael in your doorway. Standing there, in a freshly pressed suit with bright eyes and perfectly styled hair, he smiled at you. The small part of you that wondered whether Rafael’s thoughts had also been consumed by yesterday now had an answer: he didn’t look like he had lost any sleep. In fact, you were almost annoyed at how well-rested he looked. Before you could tell him that this wasn’t a good time, you noticed the extra cup of coffee in his hands.
“Good morning,” he greeted cheerfully, stepping into your office and offering you one of the mugs.
You eyed him suspiciously. Rafael was not a morning person and definitely not someone who shared coffee. However, your desperate need for caffeine outweighed any reservations you had about his cheerful demeanour.
“Morning,” you replied warily, accepting the mug.
Just as you were about to take a large swig of coffee, the faint smell of cinnamon wafted up from your cup, momentarily stunning you. You always put a dash of cinnamon in your coffee, but never thought Rafael would have noticed your little habit.
“I didn’t poison it,” Rafael remarked, mistaking your surprise for hesitation.
“It would be too easy to trace back to you if you did and, frankly, I expect a more elaborate plan from you,” you retorted.
“Unless I used a poison the ME wouldn’t think to look for. Nightshade, for instance,” Rafael casually said before taking a drink from his mug.
“I hope you know that because of a seminar and not because you moonlight as an assassin to fund your expensive taste in suits.”
Rafael shrugged, a small smile forming on his lips. “I guess you’ll soon find out.”
You stared at him for a beat longer before taking a sip of coffee. A happy sigh escaped your lips as the hot liquid hit your tongue. Whatever your feelings about Rafael Barba that man knew good coffee.
Rafael’s heart fluttered when he heard your contented sigh. He experienced a similar feeling last night when you admitted you didn’t hate him. Rafael suspected you weren’t telling him the whole truth, but the only thing he could focus on was that you didn’t despise him. Your admission ignited a spark of hope in him. Standing on the steps, long after your retreating figure had disappeared, Rafael began to fan that spark. Accidentally stealing your coffee was fixable. In fact, it had a very simple solution. And so, alone on the steps, Rafael made a silent promise to whatever deity was listening that he would bring you coffee every day if it could fix the damage he had inadvertently caused.
And if this plan gave him an excuse to see you every morning, well, then all the better.
“I feel fine…for now. Thanks for the coffee,” you told him while attempting to stifle a yawn.
“Seems like you needed the extra hit of caffeine today,” Rafael commented as he made himself comfortable on your couch.
“Just stayed up late working,” you replied vaguely, tracing the rim of your mug with your index finger.
You narrowed your eyes at Rafael as he rested his feet on your coffee table.
Rafael’s brow furrowed as he noticed the dark circles under your eyes. “Did you sleep at all?”
“Unlike you, Barba, some people don’t need beauty sleep because they’re already beautiful,” you responded, leaning against the front of your desk.
“Too bad you’re not one of those people,” he smirked. “I thought Manhattan was in the middle of a zombie outbreak.”
“Well, the joke’s on you because if we were in the midst of a zombie epidemic, I’d successfully blend in with the zombies and survive. You, on the other hand, with your colourful tie and socks,” you paused, gesturing to the turquoise tie and matching socks he was wearing. “Would be one of the first to get eaten.”
Rafael tilted his head in mock thoughtfulness. “Hm, well, I am a snack.”
“Ah, that must be why you’re so salty.”
“But you admit that I’m a snack?” Rafael raised an eyebrow.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re an acquired taste, that’s for sure,” you muttered.
It didn’t escape Rafael’s notice that you didn’t deny it, and he felt the spark of hope grow a little stronger.
“Anyway,” you continued, moving behind your desk. “Some of us actually have work to do.”
“You’re right. I do have work to do,” Rafael grinned, getting up from your couch.
You frowned in annoyance, amazed that someone could get under your skin as much as Rafael Barba.
He was almost out the door when you called to him.
“Oh, and Barba? I may be sleep-deprived, but I still noticed the mug you gave me.” You met his eyes for a brief second, gracing him with a small smile, before turning your attention back to a file. The mug in question, Rafael’s old Harvard mug, was already half empty and sitting atop one of the giant stacks of paperwork covering your desk.
Rafael laughed, confirming your suspicion that it wasn’t a coincidence. What you didn’t know, however, was that he had brought the mug from home especially for you in the hope that it would make you smile.  
With your attention focused back on witness testimonies and police reports, Rafael took the opportunity to steal one last glance at you before he left.
The rest of Rafael’s day passed uneventfully; his hours were spent in a monotonous blur of drafting motions, reading testimonies, and dull meetings. Despite the minor frustrations he encountered throughout the day, a smile lingered on his lips.
Arriving back at One Hogan Place after a late meeting with the squad, Rafael was disappointed to discover that your office was dark. No doubt you were at home catching up on some much-needed sleep. As he walked to his office, his thoughts wandered to you in bed and what it would be like to be there with you. He could picture you wrapped in his arms and wearing one of his shirts. Outside the door to his office, Rafael shook his head to cast off the fantasy.
However, his thoughts quickly made their way back to you when he saw his Harvard mug sitting in the middle of his desk. You had washed the mug and placed a bright blue sticky note on it.
Thanks for not poisoning me
Rafael noticed a second note peeking out from underneath the first.
This time at least
He laughed quietly to himself, slipping the two notes into his briefcase, before heading back to his empty apartment.
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winter-chill · 5 years
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Penny The Custom Built Maiden
So let's just kick this into high gear. Penny was built to be a maiden!
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Volume 1
Let's start at the beginning, her first appearance is "the Stray" it shows Penny being innocent, new to town and wandering the city alone. Nothing of note (at least not maiden theory worthy). She's here to fight in the tournament, she's combat ready, but this was just a short intro and not really that evidential. Blake and White however... well we see a lot more of Penny. Her intro into the episode is quiet and she just appears. Already though we know a bit about her, that she can tell Blake is a faunus, she's able to read people, maybe not too well emotionally, but she saw past Blake's bow with ease and could just 'tell' which for a Maiden being able to tell a human or faunus apart (or a faunus trait even if hidden) would be useful... though also just for a combat robot it would be useful too.
We also know she's not good with people, which is just pointing to her past being locked up and not able to socialize, so for however long she's been 'alive/active' she's probably just been training, and this kind of hints to the fact that her adventure into Vale is that of a social introduction, to learn about people a little more.
Cut to the WF fight, Ruby stands to talk and Penny is left a little in the dark about who is on her side or not. When Ruby is knocked down though there's basically no delay, Penny goes into combat mode and is ready to fight, to protect who she's seen as good and stop those who oppose them. It's natural, she's smiling, she's trained for situations much much worse than this. What more is there to say besides her incredible firepower is not something you'd give her if you were using her as maybe a test run for a new set of robots, nope she's special and she's equipped to be one of a kind... or maybe one of four?? Once the fight is over Penny is soon driven off, with no goodbye, and  told that she shouldn't have been alone, but that "her time will come" again bringing it back to the upcoming Vytal festival.
Volume 2
So, it's been a couple of episodes and radio silence from Penny until... there she is, out and about, and trying to keep Ruby out of her now routine run-from-the-guards. I can't really point out much else this episode, again everything she does is either hiding from the guards, avoiding questions, or just related more to her secret as an android than as a maiden. Painting the Town though, Penny begins to explain herself. She was made, she's synthetic, she's able to generate and aura. Note 'generating' though, she doesn't use an aura, she generates one, creates it from her real soul, one I believe was created via "A little help from mister Ironwood" being the Atlas Relic, the Relic of Creation. 
Moving on, sure enough people don't think Penny is ready to protect herself, or the world. She said it herself, she was created to save the world, maybe on her own, maybe with 3 sisters? the point is she's been designed to be someone who can save everyone, and considering the other headmasters are all aware of Ozpin (Ozma's) real purpose, his secrets, his relic, and Salem... she surely then must have been designed and built able to ideally stop Salem, or otherwise protect the Relic's from her until someone else can. This conversation goes on to explain that Penny wants to explore the world, and to test herself. As a Maiden this would be important, to know what the world is like, to travel it, to meet people and learn who she is protecting, to give her a genuine and unprogrammed reason to fight, and then to test herself against those who are also training to fight and protect, she needs to best them and prove herself the strongest (which I'll get to more later in V3). That's about it for V2 though, besides showing up at the dance she won't be seen again until V3 so...
Volume 3
So once again we barely see Penny she appears this volume, first showing up following Ironwood, the man cracking down on her absences, and especially so since the festival has begun. This volume though is where we really need to stop looking at Penny, and more towards Oz and Ironwood for hints and clues. We learn about the four seasons tale, about how that is just a fairy-tale about the maidens, but that all tales are based in truth. That there were four children and they were granted powers, that their souls pass on from one to another in death, and that it passes on to... young girls.
During this festival I'd like to jump almost to the end, to the finalists, a few of which represent the several kingdoms, but our attention is always towards Pyrrha and Penny. And for this we need to ask why? Why have the festival? A bit of fun, a way to test students against themselves, and during this year, a way to find the strongest female student. Ozpin of course has Pyrrha, a world renown fighter and experienced combatant, while Ironwood has Penny, a girl with incredible power but still learning about the world. This fight should have been easier and clear cut, but it was actually Ozpin's mistake that threw it off course, telling Pyrrha about the maidens, about Amber, about his intent for her.. given a fair fight either girl had a good chance, but Penny was Ironwood's hope, a girl who was innocent and pure, willingly to see the good in the world and wanting to save it, and with the power to do just that, a body that wouldn't die of age, and would be fixed easier and quicker than any human body would. The only issue was Cinder.
Cinder pushed their fight forwards, and I'm almost certain they were expecting the two of them to be fighting later on, but when their fight showed up early on it was time to see who made the better choice. Emerald intervened, and Penny fell. Again this was unfortunate, Penny was naive and didn't know why this fight was so important, where as Pyrrha was told but it only stressed her more than it did motivate her.
During this all Amber lay under Beacon, inside a machine which could transfer aura, or at least guide it, built with the purpose of transferring the Maiden's aura from one soul to another. A perfect host would have been Penny for this situation. Trying not to repeat myself she was built perfectly, fixable, unaging, able to generate and maintain an aura, be it her own or the aura granted from Amber, all that, and she fit into the mold of being a young girl - Props to Cinder for even catching on here, "What need would Atlas have for a soldier disguised as an innocent little girl? I don't think the Grimm can tell the difference." No of course the grimm can't tell, but a Maiden's aura could. In the end the power though is lost to Cinder, and Penny is left in pieces, but her existence was never answered during this volume, she was more than an experiment, but explicitly no reason was ever given.
Volume 4-6
Unfortunately the next three volumes are lacking, in general they are great, but for Penny not so much. We learn a little more about the maidens, about the original gods, and while I’d love to headcanon more on those and how that leads into Penny... those are more headcanons that support other headcanons, and on their own are kind of void of evidence. We can only hope Volume 7 brings up more facts, info, and Penny news.. I mean we are heading to Atlas after all, it’s now or never RT.
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natasha-cole · 6 years
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Perfectly Imperfect Part 7
Pairing: Rob Benedict x Reader
Chapter Summary: They’re working on getting to know each other; but they each still have their doubts. What should have been a perfect moment only pushes them further away from each other.
Warnings: some fluff, angst
Word Count: 2520
Notes: Because I was on a bit of a roll... have another chapter.
Also, I was listening to Ray LaMontagne while I wrote this and I did have a specific song in mind, but I figure you can imagine your own favorite song.
Catch Up: Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6
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Reader’s POV
Rob was busy in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the two of you while you worked on setting the table. You finished up by placing wine glasses on the table, realizing now just how nervous you were. Plenty of soulmates went on dates. It wasn’t because of the need to get to know each other, but rather, just a way to spend time with your person.
This... this was completely different. You and Rob had to find a way to get to know each other. Something in your connection failed to fulfill that basic part of finding your soulmate. The two of you were basically left to fend for yourselves; unable to connect in even the most basic ways.
You had no one to turn to with the questions that filled your mind. No one could ever understand what the two of you were going through and this was something you had to figure out together. You wondered how the two of you could possibly get to know each other the way that soulmates knew each other. You knew that time was of the essence here, you could feel it. If either of you wanted to at least try to fix this, you had to work on the missing pieces quickly.
“I hope you like chicken Alfredo,” Rob said as he appeared next to you.
You hadn’t even heard him walk into the room; but there he was, carrying a dish that he moved to set on the table. You had already put out a salad and a bottle of wine that you found in his kitchen.
“It’s actually my favorite,” you replied. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t know. I just… had a feeling.”
He pulled out a chair and motioned for you to sit. You did as he instructed, thrilled that he was still a gentleman and obviously going out of his way to make you comfortable. Once you were sat, he joined you, taking his seat across from you.
The two of you served yourselves in an awkward silence, unsure of how to even start. You took a bite of your food, trying to think of something to say. Luckily, Rob took control of the situation.
“So, tell me about yourself,” he began as glanced over to you. “What’s your story?”
You easily fell into conversation with him now that he had taken the initiative to start one. You talked about your families; knowing that at some point, you’d have to meet his and he’d have to meet yours. That whole thing was a normal part of connecting. Once the initial feelings of connection wore off, which could take weeks or even months for some, and soulmates were ready to go back into the world, parents generally threw large parties to accept the new person into the their families. It was an entire process, and overwhelming to even think about considering.
You and Rob decided that you would definitely try to draw this out for as long as possible while you worked on getting to know each other.
You talked about everything. You talked about your friends, your jobs… Rob talked a lot about making music, which you loved to listen to him go on about. You never thought you’d find yourself in a position to actually hear the man talk about his music; so you basked in it while he spoke; intrigued and immersed.
The two of you got to talking about favorite bands. And when you mentioned a band that you were recently into, his eyes lit up, almost changing to a brighter shade of blue that you didn’t even realize was possible. He rushed over to his record player and scanned through a collection of albums until he found what he was looking for.
“Have you heard this one?” He asked excitedly.
“Of course I have,” you giggled. “I told you, they’re one of my favorite bands.”
“Yeah,” he grinned as he turned the volume up. “But have you heard it like this?”
The music filled the room with intensity and you could feel it in your bones. The slow guitar, the steady beating of the drums. You let it wash over you as you watched Rob with complete adoration. He was smiling, watching you intently to make sure that you were feeling this in the way that you were apparently meant to.
“I love this song,” you said softly. You leaned back, closing your eyes and you focused on the lyrics; so melancholy, but still beautiful, unaware that Rob’s eyes never left you.
“It’s a good song.”
“Great choice,” you said as you smiled at him.
“You wanna dance?”
“Okay.”
You watched as he stepped toward you held his hand out to you. Eagerly, you grasped onto it; immediately feeling that spark that you had been feeling each time the two of you touched rush through your body.
He helped you up and almost hesitantly got himself into position; wrapping his arms around your waist as you rested yours on his shoulders. He gave you a nervous smile before moving you into a slow dance.
You lost yourself in this moment. Maybe it was the song… but most likely, it was the closeness that you had with Rob right now. Yes, you had cuddled a few times in bed, mostly when the sickness of being apart became too much for either of you to handle; but this was different. This was a moment of complete trust. You could feel it.
Trying to gauge how he was feeling, you pulled back a bit and looked at him. He smiled at you and you felt your stomach flip as you realized that he was definitely handsome. You had known all along, but it was a different kind of realization. You didn’t want to push too much, but you dared to say it was a ‘this is my person and he is perfect’ kind of realization.
Almost as soon as you felt this moment of adoration toward him, it disappeared and was replaced with anxiety. Now, all you could think about was the fact that he could very easily not be yours at all. You kept telling yourself it was a broken connection. Broken, but still very much real. Right now, you wondered if it had just been a mistake. You wondered if he thought the same thing.
Something changed in him as you watched him. The usually nervous man that you had interacted with so many times suddenly looked at you differently. There was a spark of something in his eyes, and almost sure grin pulled up on his lips as the two of you stared at each other.
He was right there. His lips so close to yours, those violent blue eyes staring straight into yours. You both felt something in this moment, you knew it.
While your connection probably should have felt like this the moment it happened, it was happening now. Still, you had been so confused by this entire thing; so you weren’t sure what this was or even if it was a hint at the two of you fixing this.
You reached a hand up to his face, carefully placing it along his jawline; feeling the rough hairs of his beard beneath your fingertips. Your eyes flicked to his lips as you wondered if you were really ready for this.
You shouldn’t have been feeling so nervous, so afraid, so confused. In spite of those feelings, there was something else there too. A want. A need. Something you had never felt before; and that scared you.
Your breath caught as he moved closer to you. You watched as his eyes fluttered closed, his hands gripping onto your back as they pulled you closer to him. You wanted him to kiss you. But, remembering this situation that you were in, you wondered if that was a good idea right now.
You hardly knew the man. All the two of you really had was the occasional mental and emotional connection that disappeared almost as quickly as it showed up. All you had was a completely broken connection that you so desperately wanted to fix even if you had no idea if was fixable.
The idea of growing attached to him only to have this entire thing shatter in the end terrified you. You knew it would be best to take this slowly, for your own sake.
Just before he got too close to you, you turned your face from his, clearing your throat awkwardly as you began to push him away.
The music began to fade out in the background and Rob was now pulled back, looking at you again, this time questioningly.
“Thanks for the dance,” you said as you removed yourself from his arms. “I haven’t danced in a long time.”
“Uh, yeah,” he replied, turning his face up in a look of confusion as he let it sink in that you had just denied him completely. “That was nice. Thank you.”
You immediately realized that you had definitely hurt his pride and probably confused the hell out of him.
“Hey, maybe we should talk about that,” you offered.
The last thing you wanted was to make him think you weren’t interested in making this work. One of the worst things a person could do was deny their soulmate, and you got the feeling that you had definitely just done that.
“What? Talk about what?” He said defensively.
His behavior went from endearing and sweet to uncomfortable in a matter of seconds.
“I’m not saying that I don’t want to kiss you,” you explained. “Trust me; there’s a definite want for that… but I just feel like- this isn’t the time. Not when we’re just getting to know each other and learning to handle this.”
“I wasn’t going to kiss you,” he said sharply. “I just- wasn’t.”
“Okay,” you said softly, not wanting to upset him even more.
“It’s late. I’m going to bed.”
“Oh, okay,” you replied. “Should I… should I sleep in the guest room maybe?”
He sighed, now avoiding your gaze as he ran a hand against the back of his neck as if he were considering this.
“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Maybe for now. I mean, this is your first night here… this is- confusing-.”
“Okay,” you muttered.
“Look, I know we’ve shared a bed and all before, but it’s a little different now that we’re in my house. We don’t need to make each other uncomfortable. I just want you to be comfortable. I don’t expect you to sleep in my bed.”
He was taking back every word he had said before. You knew the two of you shared a bed during the convention because the connection was so new and the effects made it impossible for the two of you to be apart, but he had mentioned keeping things going the way that they had been as he helped you move your stuff in. You liked the idea of being close to him like that, but now you had ruined everything. You had offended him so much that he didn’t even want you near him.
Rob’s POV
As he lay in bed that night, he couldn’t stop replaying the evening in his mind. There had just been something about that moment… the dance, the feel of her in his arms, and the way she looked at him.
For a brief moment, he really thought they were so much closer to fixing this than even he expected. It felt like the right thing to do in that moment. Something inside of him told him that he needed to kiss her. He felt that it was almost imperative to do so. And, for a brief moment, he thought she felt the same thing.
It wasn’t a blow to his ego the way she had denied him. He would never pressure her into anything. But, his worries stemmed from the fact that she obviously didn’t feel that same feeling in that moment.
Soulmates were supposed to feel each other’s feelings. They were supposed to feel the same things. Things like that first kiss were supposed to be a mutual feeling and a moment that was pre planned by fate. The need to kiss her had been so strong, he assumed she had to be feeling it too. But when she didn’t, Rob mostly felt letdown. He felt that fate had let him down. How could they fix this when they couldn’t even understand each other emotionally and mentally? How could they work when they couldn’t even feel the same things?
The way she looked at him after she had pushed him away was burned in his memory. She looked offended, sacred… The fact that he had made her feel that way made him sick. How could he be okay with upsetting his soulmate? If that’s really what she was anyway.
Now that he was thinking about the possibility that perhaps this had all just been a fluke, he felt worse. He tried to push the thoughts away, because he really wanted to believe that it was real and that she was his person; but he couldn’t help but wonder if the whole ‘broken soulmate’ thing was just a myth as everyone expected. He had convinced himself that’s all it was and that the two of them could fix it together. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was all just wishful thinking.
Maybe they weren’t broken at all. Maybe their paths had crossed so often, that fate had somehow tripped up in that moment simply because neither of them had ever found their true soulmates. Maybe it wasn’t fate at all. Maybe he and Y/N were just two broken people who somehow fell into this mess.
Rob let out a loud sigh, running his hands through his hair as his mind swirled with every possibility that he could conjure up. This was all so frustrating and painful. He wondered if he had made a mistake by insisting that they work on this. Surely, it shouldn’t be this difficult if they were meant to be soulmates.
His thought wandered to Y/N. Not about how she had denied him or how this had all started. He thought about those Y/E/C eyes. The first color he had ever seen immediately following that moment that his hand brushed against hers. He thought about her smile and her laugh and how the image of her in his mind made him feel a little less incomplete. He thought about how alone he felt right now since he had panicked and asked her to take the guest room.
Surely, those little feelings couldn’t be a fluke.
He didn’t sleep that night. Instead, he tossed and turned and wrestled with his conflicting thoughts.
Was it better to just cut his losses and not risk wasting time on someone who may not be meant for him? Or should he continue to follow that tiny, minuscule, sliver of a feeling deep, deep down that told him to hold onto her?
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tigerlover16-uk · 6 years
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In a way its really wierd to me how angry people get over Super. It's clearly just trying to be a simple comedy action series aimed at kids. Though I suppose there is the ageold ruining my childhood thing. But it doesn't really strike me as very provocative to inspire such strong negative feelings. Im just mostly looking at what it's trying to be. It doesnt strike me as tryhard either. The most powerful being is a audience selfinsert that just wants to have fun. Its so selfaware on many levels.
A lot of people obsess over Dragon Ball and want it to remain this (In their heads) perfect, untouched work of art I think. I’ve never agreed with that sentiment, but Dragon Ball IS one of the most iconic and influential anime and mangas of all time and has a special place in millions of peoples hearts. With that kind of pedigree, I get a lot of people having very high standards for any kind of a follow up.
There are legitimate grievances to be had with Super, and plenty of things that can theoretically go wrong with continuing Dragon Ball’s story (Just look at GT for proof of that).
So it’s perfectly reasonable to have concerns… but, unfortunately the Dragon Ball fandom has the same problem as the Star Wars fandom, Sonic fandom, and really a lot of other major fandoms out there: They let their nostalgia and obsession with the series get completely out of hand, and treat every mistake, big or small, as a sign that the end times have come and that the series is ruined forever.
Some of this does come from nitpicky aspects of the series that only certain obsessive fans actually care about and the majority of viewers are actually casually ignorant to (Like power scaling), some of it does come from places of genuine concern (Animation issues and messed up production early on, stuff like the Future Trunks saga ending, the show running in circles with certain characters rather than letting them progress further, etc), but a lot of it is, frankly, people just wanting an excuse to complain because “It’s not like Z!”.
As someone who grew up with the Star Wars Prequels and 3D era Sonic games, and prefers them to both franchises earlier outings (Mostly… 06 WAS a complete mess, nostalgia aside), I tend to have little sympathy for people whining about how a flawed sequel has completely ruined their favourite series and thus their childhood forever. 
And while I do sympathise with more reasonable fans who have fair reasons for disliking it, I think people in general are being incredibly myopic if they think that Super can actually damage Dragon Ball as a whole.
Like, you want to know why I keep comparing it to the Prequel Trilogy? Because for all the handwringing from petulant manbabies about how their precious (Dated and somewhat overrated, FTR) sacred movies had supposedly been ruined forever… the movies didn’t actually hurt Star Wars much in the long run, let’s be honest.
The Original Trilogy still exists. They’re the same movies they’ve always been, and if you don’t like the Prequels you’re free to ignore them and enjoy the original three movies for what they are, since they do function as a self contained story. There’s still plenty of tie in material from the old and new EU for people who want MORE Star Wars content not related to the Prequels too.
And on that note, we’ve had PLENTY of good Star Wars content since the Prequels came out too, with the tv series Star Wars: The Clone Wars frequently being hailed as one of the greatest works in the entire franchise, if not one of the best cartoons ever made, with some Prequel detractors even arguing it SALVAGED those movies. And let’s not forget how the first installment of the sequel trilogy became the first franchise film to gross over $2 Billion at the box office.
That’s not even getting into the fact that the Prequels also brought in a whole generation of new fans and lead to their love of the franchise, myself included.
For whatever problems the Prequels had (Real, imagined or grossly exaggerated), in the long run… Star Wars was fine. 
Even now with the Last Jedi, which many argue is a horrible movie that hurts the overall story of the Star Wars Saga (Funnily enough, I’m actually in that camp this time), I think similar logic applies. I, and other fans may not like it or a lot of stuff the Sequel Trilogy has done, and with stuff like Solo the Star Wars franchise may be going through a bit of a rough patch in terms of public interest at the moment… but honestly, I don’t think things are going to be bad forever.
People will eventually move on with their lives. People who don’t like the Sequel Trilogy can move on and enjoy the old movies while pretending they don’t exist, and enjoying whatever other spin offs they like, while fans who do like the Sequel Trilogy and modern star wars content can look forward to more stuff they enjoy. 
I can complain about certain directions the series has taken, but as someone who’s endured having people tell me that my childhood favourites ruined their lives (To which I have to say… please go outside and get some air, for Christ’s sake), I have no interest in wangsting about the state of things when I have a lot of better things I should be doing.
That’s not to say no one should complain of course, there are legitimate failings to the Sequel Trilogy and Last Jedi in particular and people have every right to complain (As long as they’re not the toxic fanbrats whining about the “SJW AGENDA!” And bulling the cast, those people can jump off a cliff along with the people who bullied Jake Lloyd and drove Ahmed Best to contemplate suicide). In fact, it’s a good thing for people to be critical since actually constructive criticism is necessary and good feedback for studios responsible for these pop culture franchises.
Going back to Dragon Ball, I personally enjoy Super. I think it’s done a lot of good things, though also had various missteps along the way. But despite those issues and while I hope future works take steps to fix and improve on things, I’m fairly happy with the current state of the franchise and eager for more.
I do think you have a point too, anon. Super itself isn’t honestly trying to be anything revolutionary or even on Z’s level. If you actually examine the show as a whole, it’s basically extended filler that mostly serves to expand the universe, create a big sandbox for future stories to possibly build on, and further develop several characters. The only time it really tried to do anything particularly ambitious was in the Future Trunks saga, where we had villains who questioned the state of humanity and there was an ideological battle going on between them and our heroes, mostly Future Trunks.
Other than that though? We got two movie retellings that were basically self-contained conflicts, a small-stakes tournament that mostly served to introduce a bunch of new recurring characters, and a multiversal tournament that, while it did do some interesting thematic stuff here and there… was mostly an excuse to introduce EVEN MORE new characters, give old ones a chance to shine and develop some more, and have a lot of cool looking fights.
Super isn’t really trying to be Z. It just wants to be a fun show for kids and which nostalgic fans can hopefully enjoy. If anything, I think it was mostly a test run to see whether continuing the franchise with more stories beyond the occasional movie was viable.
There’s certainly gripes to be had, but really Super’s status as a fill-in for a time gap in the Z anime to me just makes it feel a lot more low risk than an immediate sequel to the end of Z, since things do still end the same way they did regardless at the moment. It exists for fans to enjoy if they want to, but it can be easily ignored for fans who don’t and prefer the previous series.
And personally, I don’t think it’s really possible to truly “Ruin” Dragon Ball because the story already got an ending. The original manga, and the two anime adapting it, are a complete story on their own. One with a very open ending that leaves the door open for future stories, yes, but it’s a complete story nonetheless. Whatever directions future series may take, good or bad, it’ll never truly change the story as it originally was, because that manga and it’s anime will always exist for people to enjoy as it was intended.
I hate GT and I’ve complained about it plenty, but while I have very personal reasons for why it annoys me… at the end of the day, it’s irrelevant now. We got a different continuation that ignores it, it’s divorced enough from the original canon that I can just go about my days pretending it doesn’t exist, and I got my closure over it with that last re-watch sorting out my feelings on the series. 
So, really, flawed as it is there’s nothing to be REALLY mad about, is there? It exists, but it doesn’t do me any real harm, and it’s there for people who do enjoy it (For whatever weird reason, lol) to watch at their leisure. So in effect, it’s harmless… or at least it will be once we get another post-EoZ series to prove it didn’t completely close the door on those being made.
Dragon Ball’s kind of lucky in that way. It got to a point where it had a satisfying resolution where it can hopefully stand the test of time as a classic work of fiction, but people who want more still have the opportunity for that. 
And people who don’t think it should continue, or just don’t like those continuations, are free to not watch those works and enjoy the series the way they want to. Or, even if they don’t like Super, it’s still possible a better series or other products like movies can be made down the line that they can enjoy better.
Just like with Star Wars and the Sonic games.
I may have issues with Super from time to time, but overall I think it did a lot more good than bad, and most of it’s faults could be improved on in future series. The worst thing it actually did was destroying the original future timeline, but even that’s fixable if they just have another story with Future Trunks coming back and have somebody go “Hey, maybe we can use the Super Dragon Balls to bring your timeline back”. 
I get having personal attachment to the series and it’s characters, I do too. And I get people getting emotional when they feel something they like is being disrespected in any way. If people think the show handled Goku’s character badly or did something to hurt the overall ongoing story, then they’re within their right to complain and be upset about that. TO A REASONABLE EXTENT.
I do also get the feeling a lot of people just can’t handle Dragon Ball having a flawed follow up, aswell. Given that Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z are influential classics, it makes sense that a lot of people would be unhappy with anything that didn’t live up to that quality. But I think some people do get overly worked up about it.
Fact is, all franchises have both flawed installments, and a number of duds to show for them. Star Trek has bad movies and the bad series here or there (Enterprise). Doctor Who has had bad seasons. Marvel and DC have had plenty of bad comics and media adaptions. Mario and Sonic and Pokémon and lots of others have had bad games or adaptions. But that hasn’t ruined everything that was good about those series, or stopped them from putting out good new content.
Every piece of media has it’s flaws to be frank, and every franchise will inevitably stumble here or there. Dragon Ball has had plenty of duds before Super. The Broly movies, GT, Return of Cooler, Episode of Bardock, a bunch of bad video games most people don’t even bother to remember, FREAKING DRAGON BALL EVOLUTION. And plenty of stuff about the old series themselves has aged terribly (Especially in early Dragon Ball). But none of that has managed to kill the franchise.
We’ve had bad, mediocre and decent though heavily flawed Dragon Ball stories and products in the past, and we’ll have plenty more in the future. And while there’ll be stuff that is worth griping about, really at the end of the day it’s not the end of the world, and people who do get legitimately angry thinking it is need to relax now and again.
I get people thinking that things should have just stayed the way there were, thinking that Dragon Ball shouldn’t have been continued if that continuation wasn’t going to live up to it’s predecessors. And I’m never going to argue that people shouldn’t complain about things (I certainly do).
But realistically, Dragon Ball was going to have follow ups sooner or later. It’s the biggest franchise Toei and Shueisha have, and one of the most iconic series of all time. Whether I or anyone else thinks Dragon Ball needed a follow up or not, it was bound to happen because we live in a world where milking popular franchises is the name of the game. 
People can complain about it, people can and should have issues with flawed products. People can insist on Dragon Ball’s legacy needing to be preserved. But like I’ve said... the series as you loved it isn’t going anywhere. No one is obligated to support everything the franchise does. So I don’t think getting overly angry or worked up about Super or GT or whatever not being everything they wanted them to be is something to freak out over.
Fact is, for all the complaints... a lot of people still love Super and enjoyed it. A lot of people still love Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z. Super has brought Toei nothing but monetary success, and interest in the franchise is at the highest it’s been since Z finished airing in the West over a decade ago and the franchise went truly dormant for the most part. If anything, I think Dragon Ball actually gets more respect these days than it did for most of the latter half of the last decade, where it became sort of an internet laughing stock in the West.
We’re still getting plenty of high profile and quality products, like FighterZ, which along with Super itself and the movies preceding it has helped draw in a lot of new fans and brought back a good chunk of lapsed ones. There’s a generation of children the world over that are going to have grown up on Super as their first Dragon Ball series, and it’ll be an important part of helping them get into the franchise and the previous series, much like Kai before it. 
And we’ve got a new movie coming out that’s generating a lot of hype and which looks to be giving the franchise a much needed and exceptionally positive visual overhaul, which it’s needed for a while now.
For all the ups and downs, and there have been plenty... Dragon Ball is doing fine. Regardless of what any individual person thinks of Super, Dragon Ball’s legacy isn’t in any danger. The franchise isn’t collapsing, and the overall story and all of it’s characters haven’t been completely ruined beyond repair.
Things could be better. But Z and Dragon Ball could have been better in a lot of places too. It’s okay to be unsatisfied about the current state of things and to voice complaints, as much as it’s okay to be loving the thrill of having Dragon Ball really make a comeback.
Things will be fine. With Super currently off the air, I think now’s the time for everyone to just take a chill and relax. The world didn’t end, and it’s not going to any time soon. (Well, unless Trump throws a hissy fit and launches nukes at everyone but, you know, hopefully that won’t happen).
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chaj · 6 years
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via mchap.io
Intro
This'll be my first blog post on the internet, ever. Hopefully it's interesting and accurate. Please point out any mistakes if you see any!
In 2016, I did some work in trying to find some hotspot areas for parking tickets to see if a bit of data munging could reduce those area's parking tickets. In the end, I only really got one cleaned up, but it was one of the most-ticketed spots in all of Chicago and led to about a 50% reduction in parking tickets.
Here's a bit of that story.
Getting the data through FOIA:
The system Chicago uses to store its parking tickets is called CANVAS. It's short for "City of Chicago Violation, Noticing and Adjudication Business Process And System Support" [sic] and managed by IBM. Its most recent contract started in 2012, expires in 2022, and has a pricetag of over $190 million.
Most of Chicago's contracts and their Requests For Procurement (RFP) PDFs are published online. In CANVAS's contracts it gives a fair amount of info on CANVAS's backend infrastructure, including the fact that it uses Oracle 10g. In other words, a FOIA request can be fulfilled by IBM running some simple SQL.
CANVAS Technical Spec CANVAS Contract CANVAS Request For Procurement (RFP) and Contract
With that information at hand, and a couple failed FOIA requests later, I sent this request to get the parking ticket data from Jan 1, 2009 to Mar 10, 2016:
"Please provide to me all possible information on all parking tickets between 2009 and the present day. This should include any information related to the car (make, etc), license plate, ticket, ticketer, ticket reason(s), financial information (paid, etc), court information (contested, etc), situational (eg, time, location), and photos/videos. Ideally, this should also include any relevant ticket-related information stored within CANVAS.
[...]
This information will be used for data analysis for research.
Thanks in advance,
Matt Chapman"
Data
About a month later, a guy named Carl (in a fancy suit), handed me a CD with some extremely messy data in a semicolon delimited file named A50462_TcktsIssdSince2009.txt. The file had info on 17,806,818 parking tickets and spans from Jan 1, 2009 to Mar 10, 2016.
The data itself looks like this:
head -5 A50462_TcktsIssdSince2009.txt Ticket Number;License Plate Number;License Plate State;License Plate Type;Ticket Make;Issue Date;Violation Location;Violation Code;Violation Description;Badge;Unit;Ticket Queue;Hearing Dispo 39596087;zzzzzz;IL;PAS;VOLV;03/03/2003 11:25 am;3849 W CONGRESS;0976160F;EXPIRED PLATES OR TEMPORARY REGISTRATION;11870;701;Paid; 40228076;zzzzzz;IL;TRK;FORD;03/01/2003 12:29 am;3448 N OKETO;0964170A;TRUCK,RV,BUS, OR TAXI RESIDENTIAL STREET;17488;016;Define; 40480875;zzzzzz;IL;PAS;PONT;03/01/2003 09:45 pm;8135 S PERRY;0964130;PARK OR BLOCK ALLEY;17575;006;Notice; 40718783;zzzzzz;IL;PAS;ISU;03/02/2003 06:02 pm;6928 S CORNELL;0976160F;EXPIRED PLATES OR TEMPORARY REGISTRATION;7296;003;Paid;Liable
Some things to note about the data:
The file is semicolon delimited.
Each address is hand typed on a handheld device, often with gloves.
There are millions of typos in the address column. Including over 50,000 semicolons!
There is no lat/lon.
What that amounts to is an extremely, extremely messy and unpredictable dataset that's incredibly to difficult to accurately map to lat/lon, which is needed for any sort of comprehensive GIS analysis. There are a bunch of geocoder services that can help out here, but most of them have about a 50% accuracy rate. That said, with the help of a bit of scrubbing, that number can be boosted to closer to 90%. Another post for another time.
Here’s a sample list of Lake Shore Drive typos:
Laks Shore Dr Lawkeshore Dr West Lkaeshore Dr Lkae Shore Dr Lkae Shore Drive Lkaeshore Dr West
Original Analysis
I was particularly interested in finding areas that had hotspot areas that stood out. A lot of my time was spent just throwing hacky code at the problem and eventually wrote out two series of (hacky) commands that led to identifying a potentially fixable spot.
Originally, the work and analysis I was doing was with a combination of unix commands and gnuplot. Since then, I've migrated my code to python + matplotlib + SQL. But, for the sake of this blog, I wanted to show the original analysis.
Get count of tickets at addresses and ignoring first two digits:
$ mawk -F';' '{print $7}' all_tickets.orig.txt | sed -r 's/^([0-9]*)[0-9][0-9] (.*)/\100 \2/' | sed -r 's/ (BLVD|ST|AV|AVE|RD)$//' | sort | uniq -c | sort -nr 79320 1900 W OGDEN 60059 1100 N STATE 50594 100 N WABASH 44503 1400 N MILWAUKEE 43121 1500 N MILWAUKEE 43030 2800 N BROADWAY 42294 2100 S ARCHER 42116 1900 W HARRISON
Get count of tickets, by ticket type, at specific addresses:
$ mawk -F';' '{print $9,$7}' A50462_TcktsIssdSince2009.txt | sed -r 's/ (BLVD|ST|AV|AVE|RD)$//' | sort --parallel=4 | uniq -c | sort -nr 12510 EXPIRED PLATES OR TEMPORARY REGISTRATION 5050 W 55TH 9636 PARKING/STANDING PROHIBITED ANYTIME 835 N MICHIGAN 8943 EXPIRED PLATES OR TEMPORARY REGISTRATION 1 W PARKING LOT A 6168 EXPIRED PLATES OR TEMPORARY REGISTRATION 1 W PARKING LOT E 5938 PARKING/STANDING PROHIBITED ANYTIME 500 W MADISON 5663 PARK OR STAND IN BUS/TAXI/CARRIAGE STAND 1166 N STATE 5527 EXPIRED METER OR OVERSTAY 5230 S LAKE PARK 4174 PARKING/STANDING PROHIBITED ANYTIME 1901 W HARRISON 4137 REAR AND FRONT PLATE REQUIRED 1 W PARKING LOT A
Both bits of code roughly show that there's something going on at 1100N state street, and 1166 N State St looks particularly suspicious..
So, have a look at the original set of signs:
Things going on that make this spot confusing:
This is a taxi stand from 7pm to 5am for three cars’ lengths. Parking in a taxi stand is a $100 ticket.
When this spot isn’t a taxi stand, it’s metered parking – for a parking meter beyond an alleyway.
It’s possible to pay for parking here after 7pm, which makes it look like parking is acceptable – especially with the “ParkChicago” sign floating there.
Confusion creates more confusion – if one car parks there, then more cars follow. Cha-ching.
Contacting the 2nd Ward
With all that in mind, I contacted the second ward’s alderman’s office on April 12 explaining this, and got back this response:
"Hello Matt,
[…]The signs and the ordinance are currently being investigated.
In the interim, I highly recommend that you do not park there to avoid any further tickets.
Lisa Ryan
Alderman Brian Hopkins - 2nd Ward"
The Fix
On 1/11/17 I received this email from Lisa:
"Matt,
I don't know if you noticed the additional signage installed on State Street at the 3 Taxi Stand.
This should elevate [sic] any further confusion of vehicle parking.
Thank you for your patience.
Lisa Ryan"
Sure enough, two new signs were added!
The new taxi stand sign sets a boundary for a previously unbounded taxi stand. The No Parking sign explicitly makes it clear that parking here during taxi stand hours is a fineable offense. Neat!
And then there's this guy:
Results
I recently decided to look at the number of tickets at that spot. Armed with a new set of data from another FOIA request, I did some analysis with python, pandas, and SQL. What I found is that the addition of a new sign effectively led to a 50% reduction in parking tickets between 1150 and 1200 N State St. Adding it all up, that's about 400 tickets fewer in 2017 and 200 so far in 2018 compared to 2016. All in all, that's about $60,000 worth in parking tickets!
The drop in slope to about 50% matches perfectly with Lisa’s email:
And then comparing 2016 to 2017:
What's next?
All in all, the number of parking tickets is going up in Chicago, and this work shows that something can be done, even if small.
This work is only on one small section of road, but I'm convinced that similar work can be on a systematic scale. It's mostly just a matter of digging through data and working directly with each ward.
The later analysis done here was also only done on the most recent dataset that the Department of Revenue they gave me. The two datasets have a different set of columns, so the two datasets need to be combined still. I hope to accomplish that soon!
Analysis Code
Data used in this blog.
Tags: FOIA, parkingtickets, civics, unix, python
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maandags · 5 years
Text
Fixable Mistakes (Hunk x reader)
fam im jsbdcjs
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Summary: When you show up at the Castle of Lions with a heartbreaking story and a request for help, Hunk accepts immediately, not thinking anything except the fact that you needed help and he could give it to you. But as schemes begin to unfold and errors are committed, Hunk constantly needs to remind himself of something: that not every mistake can be fixed...
Word count: 11.2K 
Genre: angst/fluff
Notes: masterlist - yalls idek what to say. i show love by making my babies suffer
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At first, Hunk thought you were a hallucination.
He was in his room, minding his own business, when his wristband went off and Keith’s face appeared on a little screen hovering over his arm, telling him to get to the briefing room right now. Before Hunk could ask why, Keith broke the connection.
So Hunk sighed and pushed off his bed, trudging towards the briefing room with a scowl. He had stuff to do, damn it–he needed to show Pidge some inconsistencies in a program he was working on. Maybe she could help him. There were dozens of other things he needed to do, and there had been no meeting scheduled until two days from now. It made no sense, he grumbled internally as he pushed open the door to the briefing room.
He froze, one hand still on the doorknob.
There you stood, looking regal as anything, your hands clasped behind your back, your feet standing solidly on the ground and your shoulders drawn back. A strange thing he immediately noticed was how your hair seemed to flow behind you as if you were underwater, the ends dissolving into golden dust–as if you were a sand statue seconds away from crumbling.
You turned your head, two eyes that seemed forged out of hot embers casting him a surprised glance before your lips curled into a tentative smile. “Hello.”
“Hi,” said Hunk, voice squeakier than usual.
“Hunk? Sit down, please,” said Allura from the head of the table, and somewhere in the back of his mind Hunk noticed how shaky her voice was. His mind was completely entranced with your image in front of him, though, so he didn’t pay any attention to it until Lance brought it up later.
He ripped his eyes from your form and quickly sank into his seat, Pidge at his side. She leaned towards him and whispered, “Don’t worry. We all had the same reaction when we first saw them.” For some reason, that didn’t sit well with Hunk at all.
Everyone was there. Everyone looked at you, seated opposite Allura at the other end of the table, your body giving off its own golden-orange glow, your hair turning to stardust behind your head. You looked like… well, Hunk thought, somewhat embarrassed, you looked like royalty. Yet you also looked slightly nervous, your eyes darting from Paladin to Paladin and your shoulders drawn up to your ears as if you were expecting to get yelled at. The opposite of how you'd looked only minutes ago.
After a moment of silence, Keith spoke up, and you jumped. “So. Are you going to introduce yourself?”
Shiro’s eyes snapped to Keith, a careful warning lying in them. “Keith–”
“No, it’s okay,” you interrupted him. Your voice was quieter than Hunk had expected–twinkling. Like a melody from a music box, back on Earth. Or a star.
You took a breath, bringing delicate hands onto the table and lacing your fingers together. Even your nails seemed to give off that strange golden glow. “My name is Y/N. I’m a Comet, and I’ve come to ask for your help.”
There were exactly two seconds of dead silence, and then everyone began to speak at once. They bombarded you with questions or simply said, “What?” Lance practically jumped over the table and shouted in your face, Pidge right by his side, and you shrank more into yourself with every word they uttered. Keith had grabbed Shiro’s arm and was saying how much he didn’t like this, how he was sure this was some kind of scheme from the Galra to infiltrate them, how there was no way this was going to end well–
No one paid any attention to how you felt, and when Hunk locked eyes with you over Pidge’s head, all he saw was absolute terror and confusion and desperation. The fire he’d seen earlier was still there, but it didn’t glow as brightly as it had before–they were frightened little flames, grasping and reaching for any bit of air they could get before they were completely suffocated.
“Everyone SHUT UP!”
He surprised even himself with his shout.
But it worked, because the room went so silent you could hear a fly drop dead. Lance and Pidge slid back into their seats, having the decency to at least look a little embarrassed. Keith still held on to Shiro’s arm but cast an annoyed glance at Hunk. But Hunk’s eyes were on you only, and the look of gratefulness you sent him made his chest churn.
“Can you explain who exactly you are and what you need our help for?” he finally said.
“I still don’t like this,” whispered Keith angrily.
“Let them talk,” muttered Shiro back. His eyes were back on you again, but not before they slid over Hunk with a new sort of interest.
You nodded, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I’m–I’m sorry for barging in like this, first of all. But you must know I would never seek your help if I had another choice,” you said, your voice strained and your eyes pleading as you kept your gaze firm on Allura. The princess’ expression was guarded, but held also something that was almost reverence, and Hunk got the feeling she knew exactly who you were–or at least what you were.
“As I said, I am a Comet. You have probably heard of my people, whether the ones talking about us knew what they were saying or not, but you probably have never made the connection between the comets you know and beings like me.” With these words, you burned your fiery gaze through Keith’s as if defying him.
“Well,” said Lance hesitantly, “we do know of comets on Earth–but they’re nothing more than lumps of ice and space dust and gas that burn up in our atmosphere.” But his tone was questioning as he said it.
You smiled faintly. “That’s what we made you believe.” Hunk could almost feel five pairs of eyebrows lift at the same time. “You know of falling stars, yes?” you said patiently, and when they all nodded, “All falling stars are comets–and some are, indeed, lumps of ice and dust and gas.” An amused look towards Lance. “Others are Comets–capital C.
“We’re a nomad people. Pacifist. We travel across the universe, needing nothing but starlight to survive. Sometimes we touch down on a planet and mix with its population for a while. One lifetime. Two lifetimes. Maybe more. But we always return to the space between the stars. It’s where we belong.”
“If you’ve always been around,” began Shiro cautiously, eyeing you as if he didn’t quite know what to make of you, “why has no one ever heard of you?”
“They have,” you stated simply, ember eyes flicking to Allura and Coran. “We stay out of wars. We don’t have a home for belligerents to conquer or destroy–we’re perfectly happy roaming between the stars. We don’t fight.” The words were tinged with a sadness Hunk couldn’t quite place. There’s a twinge in his gut.
Allura cleared her throat. “Comets were always regarded as deities, back on Altea. They represented everything important to us–freedom. Peace. Tranquillity.”
“Whenever a Comet touched down on Altea, they were treated with the utmost respect and were offered hospitality in the Castle of Lions,” continued Coran, a sad smile upon his face. “They always refused, wanting to be among the people instead. They never asked for anything in return, and what could we give to them? They lived so much longer than us. They were so much wiser than us. There was nothing we could give them except for kindness.”
“We never wanted anything more,” you said in that twinkling voice of yours. But then your eyes grew sad, the embers dimming to nothing more than a slight glow.
“Why did you come?” asked Allura–the question that had been burning on everyone’s lips from the moment you stepped inside the castle.
Your lips pursed themselves into a straight line, and as you screwed your eyes shut a single tear slid down your cheek. It was black and seemed to suck all the light into itself instead of glowing with it like the rest of you did. “The Galra found a way of harvesting a Comet’s quintessence,” you said shakily. When you opened your eyes again, they were blazing with a fury that almost has Hunk shrink back in his seat. “My people have been disappearing from all over the universe. We don’t know how to fight, it’s not what we were meant to do–how are we supposed to resist?” You balled your fists. “I don’t even know how many of us are left.”
Allura had her hands clapped over her mouth, and Coran had gone stark white. Looks of confusion were painted across the other’s faces, mixed with sympathy and anger. Shiro ran a hand through his hair. “The Galra have been capturing your people for their quintessence?”
You sighed shakily. “A Comet is aeons worth of starlight and energy. If you can harvest that much power all at once…” You shivered, looking suddenly very small and weak.
A spark of anger ignited in Hunk’s chest and he clenched his fist underneath the table. This was just another example of how the Galra would stop at nothing to get more power. They would just keep on destroying and harvesting–even if it meant wiping an entire people from the universe. But he remembered with a shock that it wasn’t the first time they’d done that, either; Allura and Coran were living proof of that.
“We’ll help you,” he found himself saying. Now everyone turned to him, and Keith shot him a murderous glare, and he was probably right to do so–it was way too quick to agree to something like this. But now that the words were out there he couldn’t take them back anymore. Hunk tried for an encouraging smile your way.
“Of course we’ll help you,” said Allura after a moment of silence. She took a breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, determination glinted in them. Hunk had seen this look on her before. It was the one she wore just before going to battle. “Coran and I know what it’s like to watch your people fall right before your eyes better than anyone. Of course we’ll help you.”
And that was that.
You were given your own room, at the end of the corridor and opposite Hunk’s. Everyone agreed you shouldn’t be left to roam the universe on your own when the Galra were rounding up Comets left and right, and you seemed beyond relieved that the team had decided to help you. When Hunk asked if Comets even slept, you merely smiled. “Not as far as I know… but there’s a first time for everything, right?” Your ember eyes, burning into his.
He grinned, expression a mirror image of your own. “Right.”
You arranged a meeting with Allura, Coran and Shiro first thing the next day and left the room. Everyone sagged in their seats and released puffs of air. Hunk pushed back his chair and prepared to get back to his own room, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He looked up right into Keith’s scowling face.
“You were stupid to just agree to help them like that,” he hissed, voice low so only Hunk can hear him. The rest talked in hushed voices, their heads close together. He opened his mouth to retort but again Keith cut him off. “I’m not gonna say anything to them–but know that I’ll keep an eye on them. I don’t trust this. I don’t trust them.”
“You still think this is some scheme from the Galra to try and infiltrate us?”
“They’re insane enough for it. But, Hunk?” He paused, violet eyes hard and steely. “If this all goes to shit, and any one of us gets hurt? That’s on you.” He let go and joined the others before Hunk could answer.
Despite Keith’s bitter words from the first night, the others seemed to warm up to you pretty quick–including Hunk himself.
You were the type of person anyone liked to be around: cheerful, always kind, always trying to help in whatever small ways you could. You glowed, lighting up a room by simply being in it. Hunk caught himself staring at you more often than he’d like to admit. Sometimes you’d meet his eyes. Smile. Hunk would look away, cheeks tinged red in embarrassment.
Around two weeks passed before there was another meeting. There had been small missions; gathering intel, trying to find out where the Galra took the Comets once they’d been captured, how they were captured, what was done with them. They’d all been working themselves to the bone to get all the information they needed to craft a solid plan. Now seemed they could at least lay down a base.
Shiro pressed a button and a hologram map sprang to life in the middle of the room. “This is where we think the Comets are taken once they’re captured,” he announced. Straight to the point, Hunk thought. All right.
“It’s a base in the Kianre quadrant, section KV-23. We’ve searched out for it. Found nothing but a whole lot of radiation emanating from this exact spot.” He wrote down some coordinates. “They’ve concealed the base, but now that we know it’s there, that’s not a problem anymore.”
Lance raised his hand. “So. This might be a stupid question, but why don’t we just form Voltron and blow the base up? Boom. Problem solved.”
“It’s what we would do if there wasn’t the slightest chance that there are actual alive Comets still being held captive there. We just can’t risk it,” said Allura.
“All right, then.” Pidge puckered her lips. “So it’s a stealth slash extraction mission then?”
Shiro nodded. “That’s right. The plan is to go in, find the Comets, take them to the lions, find out how the Galra harvested their quintessence and destroy it.”
“Sounds awfully simple when you put it like that,” muttered Keith from behind his crossed arms. A wave of irritation washed over Hunk and he bit back a retort. Why couldn’t Keith just relax? He saw threats where there weren’t any.
They discussed strategics. Hunk pitched in here and there, scratching the back of his neck and casting looks at you every now and then. You were a little off to the side, fiddling with your fingers. You looked, for the first time, unsure of yourself. As if you didn’t quite know why you were there. The glow permanently surrounding you had dimmed.
“Y/N,” called Allura.
Your head jerked up. “Yes?”
“Do you know how to fight?”
You pursed your lips. “I’ve never had to fight. I wasn’t trained.”
“So that’s a no,” said Lance helpfully. Hunk kind of wanted to punch him.
Allura looked torn, trying so hard to keep a straight face. “There’s nothing you can do to defend yourself?”
“I mean… I can manipulate my light a bit,” you mumbled, drawing your hand to your chest. shy under the sudden attention. “I’m only a young Comet. I have yet so much to learn…” Your fingers opened and closed, a little ball of pure golden light dancing between them. It was hypnotising. “It’s not much of a weapon, though, I don’t think.”
Allura and Shiro shared a look between them, and Hunk sensed that in that look a whole debate took place. Finally Shiro lowered his gaze and sighed. “Y/N, I’m sorry, but you won’t be able to come with us on the mission.”
You pursed your lips, clenching your hands into fists at your side. You looked like you wanted to say something, but thought better of it in the end: the decision had been made. You sat down, your gaze firm on the floor and your fingers entwined.
Shiro put a hand on your shoulder. Your body tensed ever so slightly–Hunk didn’t think anyone but him noticed. “I’m really, truly sorry.”
“No, I get it,” you muttered. “It’s okay. Really.”
You didn’t say anything more after that. You stayed until the end of the meeting, and Hunk was impressed with you for that because he could see how much it hurt you, the knowledge that everything could go wrong in a second and you would be powerless to do anything about it. But when Allura declared the meeting over, you were the first to exit the room.
It made Hunk’s chest ache. Seeing you like this–shoulders hunched, glow dimmed, completely deflated–made his chest ache. He wished there was something he could do to help. Just make sure the mission goes all right, he told himself. Just make sure their pain isn’t for nothing.
Hunk could feel the anticipation building inside the Castle as preparations were made. Their training schedules were altered, so every moment they weren’t resting or out and about they were holed up on the training deck, working their asses off.
Shiro yelled, “Training sequence over!” The sound of the training bot deactivating was the most beautiful sound Hunk had heard all day. He blew out a breath and let himself fall to the floor where he sat cross-legged, grinning at Lance who was splayed out on his back and making sure everyone knew how tired he was.
“I swear to everything that’s holy,” he said, staring up at the ceiling from where he starfished on the floor, “once we get the Comets out of that base I am rewarding myself by not doing any form of exercise for a week.”
Shiro frowned. Hunk knew you were supposed to stretch your muscles out after exercising. Technically. Shiro was the only one doing it. “That’s not a reward. You’ve gotta keep in shape, Lance.”
“Shut up. My limbs are jelly.” Lance demonstrated this by meekly flopping his arms.
Behind Shiro, sitting against the wall, Keith rolled his eyes. “We’re probably all going to die anyway in this stupid rescue mission. So I don’t see the point.”
Pidge sighed audibly. “Okay. So I know you never liked this idea to begin with but can you please don’t be a dick about it?”
Lance now sat up. “Yeah, I mean, what is your problem? Not to be passive-aggressive,” he added quickly, “I’m actually genuinely curious.”
Keith pulled his knees up to his chest, eyes pointedly to the wall opposite him. “I just don’t trust Y/N.” Now it was Hunk’s turn to sigh and roll his eyes.
“Why not, though?” Pidge asked, eyebrows knotting together. “They’ve been nothing but kind and helpful.”
Keith shrugged again. “I don’t know. Just a feeling.” There was a pause. “It’s just–don’t you think it’s weird that they just… showed up? Like, there was no warning, no distress signal, no nothing. None of us except for Coran and Allura have even heard of Comets before. And yeah, I get it. They need help. Their people need help. But still.” A defiant look Hunk’s way. “It doesn’t sit right with me.”
And with that happy thought, he pushed himself up and left the room.
“Well,” said Lance after a while, “paranoid much?”
But Shiro’s eyes had taken on that sheen that screamed doubt. His jaw was set, and Hunk could almost see the gears turn in his head. Even though it wasn’t clear if he actually believed Keith, the fact that his words had let Shiro doubt whether what they were doing was the right thing was enough to make Hunk past uncomfortable. He narrowed his eyes.
“You don’t actually think he’s right, right?”
Shiro turned to him, everything about his expression masked with doubt. “He might have a point, you know.”
“Oh my god,” Hunk choked out. Scrambling up, he grabbed his bayard and threw up his arms. “Y/N needs help! When have we ever refused anyone help?” He glared at Shiro. “They watched their civilization get destroyed. We’re their last resort! And you’re starting to doubt if they’re even telling the truth?”
Pidge stood up now, too. “I’m with Hunk on this one. Y/N doesn’t seem the type to be a traitor or something. A spy? They can’t even fight to defend themselves! And I don’t think I’ve ever caught them lie.”
“Maybe they’re just good at their job,” muttered Lance.
The words hit Hunk like a truck. “You too?”
Lance gave an apologetic shrug. “I’m not saying I don’t trust them. But Keith does have a point when he’s talking about how randomly they just showed up. You’d think we’d hear about it if beings as powerful as the Comets were being rounded up en masse.” He sniffed, rubbing his arm. “I’m just saying we could be a little more careful.”
Hunk bit his tongue, knowing that if he let his emotions spill over now he would say things he was for sure going to regret later. Instead he turned and headed for the door, making sure to slam it shut behind him.
He had the whole trip to his room to calm down, taking deep breaths and shaking his head as if he could shake the others’ words out of his mind. There was nothing wrong with a healthy dose of suspicion–but you?
Cheerful you, who Hunk was sure had never hurt a fly in your life. You, who made him laugh every evening at dinner, talking animatedly to anyone who would listen. You who were always keen to try whatever new concoction he’d come up with in the kitchen and tried your best to convince him he’d done a good job, even when he could see the strain in your grin. You who could make him feel better by simply being by his side.
One hand on his doorknob, he bit his lip. You hadn’t been much out of your room since the meeting; only for food (and even that was just out of politeness since Comets didn’t need to eat) and occasionally for a chat or two. It was clear you didn’t want to be reminded that the fate of your people lay in the others’ hands and that you could do nothing about it. But there was an itch in Hunk’s chest–he wanted to see you. Hear your voice.
So he spun on his heel and marched to the door opposite his own.
He had to knock twice before he got an answer. Your “Yeah?” sounded slightly irritated, and Hunk pulled back his hand, but before he could decide if this was actually a good idea you opened the door, eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight of him. “Hunk! Hi.”
“Hey,” he said, fighting the urge to awkwardly balance on his heels. There were smudges of something dark under your eyes and on your cheeks. Hunk frowned. Had you been crying? Your eyes weren’t rimmed purple like they had been when you’d cried that first day you were here, but there was still something about the darkness on your face that made Hunk the slightest bit uncomfortable.
“Um… did you–uh–want anything? Or…”
Hunk jumped, feeling his own face heat up. “Oh, uh, no? Not really. I just wanted to check on you.” Your gaze softened and he suddenly really wanted to wipe away the smudges on your face. But he didn’t. Because that would be weird. “Are you okay?”
You grinned. Carefully. As if smiles were a fragile thing. And in a way, Hunk guessed they were. “Mostly. I’ve just been… you know. Stressed out. About stuff.”
Hunk sensed there was something you weren’t telling him, but he didn’t want to pressure you. If you wanted to tell him, you would. End of story. But your eyes were full of insecurities and doubt and there was something you weren’t telling him and it was something important. He opened his mouth to ask about it–but you cut him off with a question of your own.
“Hunk, do you ever feel like you’ve made a horrible, terrible mistake?”
The question caught him so off-guard he was rendered speechless for a second. But you were looking at him expectantly, almost desperately, so he thought about it before answering. “Well, I mean–of course. I’ve made my fair share of mistakes. But, you know, that’s okay. Everyone does.”
You nodded, chewing on your lower lip. You avoided his eyes as you mulled over his words. “And… when you realise you’ve made a mistake. What do you do?”
Hunk cocked his head. He didn’t quite understand what you were on about, but if he could help…
“Well, I try and fix it, don’t I? Almost every mistake can be fixed. Even trying goes a long way.”
Again you nodded, your eyes distant and your eyebrows furrowed. Your lips were moving, but whatever you were saying Hunk couldn’t make out. Your fingers fiddled with something dark but shiny, almost subconsciously. Upon closer inspection, Hunk saw it was a piece of fabric. It looked a lot like silk–but it also didn’t look like anything Hunk had ever seen before. The fabric was shimmery and seemed to shift between hues of blue and purple and black, glittering here and there with silver stars, as if someone had pinched a piece out of the universe and wove it together.
You saw him looking. Quickly withdrew the piece of cloth from sight. “Oh, that’s just–I’ve had it for ages. It’s like a good luck charm.”
Hunk nodded quickly. “Right.”
There was something else. He could tell. There was something else and it was bothering you and all he wanted to do was help–but if you wouldn’t tell him… Maybe this was something you needed to deal with on your own. He resisted the urge to pout. “Well, if you need anything else…”
Your eyes widened and snapped back to his face as if you’d forgotten he was still there. “Yeah. Sure. Thanks.”
He smiled. You smiled back. Before Hunk closed the door to his own room, he swore he could see a tear track down your cheek.
– – –
It was finally the day, and the tension could be felt throughout the entire castle. Hunk bounced on his feet, repeating the plan in his head, rolling his shoulders. Lance and Shiro were practising hand-to-hand combat. Pidge checked the wirings inside their helmets. Allura spoke with Coran in hushed tones, frantically waving her hands around. Keith sulked in a corner.
You were nowhere to be seen, and it made Hunk uncomfortable.
He’d thought you’d see them off, at least. You wouldn’t be completely alone during the time the rest went on the mission; you’d have Coran to keep you company. But still–your absence was unnerving, and he was positive the others felt it too. They were lingering, hoping you’d show up without having to go get you. He could almost hear Keith biting back some snarky remarks.
At last, Shiro sighed. “We have to go.”
Hunk kept hoping you’d come until his lion shot out of the hangar and joined the others. No sign of you. He ignored the disappointed prick in his chest. Maybe it was too difficult for you to see them leave without you, he told himself. Maybe you’d fallen asleep. Maybe, maybe, maybe. It didn’t give him any certainty. It didn’t make him feel better.
The ride was silent. Everyone was alone with their own thoughts. There wasn’t as much nervous chatter as there usually would have been. It only added to the ominous atmosphere pressing onto them. Something was askew, and yet no one wanted to mention it.
So they kept going.
The view was nice as ever, yet Hunk couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. His mind was filled with worry; for you, for himself, for his friends. So much could go wrong. He should speak up. They weren’t ready enough. They weren’t prepared enough. It was going to go wrong.
If this all goes to shit, if any one of us gets hurt–that’s on you.
He groaned, lowering his face into his hands. When he closed his eyes, all he could see were your own staring back, blazing embers forged out of pure starlight. It made his thoughts muddy and his actions sluggish. He started doubting his every move. Things he used to be absolutely certain of weren’t so clear anymore.
He hated it. He wanted it to stop.
It was probably the stress, he thought. The pressure of this one particular mission that could determine an entire civilization’s fate, and yet… they’d done missions of an even more important scale before, and he had never reacted like this. A voice inside him murmured, but this mission isn’t like the others. Because the others weren’t about you.
“Dammit,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. He vaguely noted how hot his forehead felt.
“All right folks, we’re getting close to the Kianre quadrant. We probably have ten minutes left to go before we reach the concerned sector. Get ready,” said Shiro’s tight voice over the speakers. It wasn’t like him to sound this nervous, Hunk thought. But then again–they’d all sounded nervous. Nothing made any sense anymore.
There was a flash and a kind of humming sound. The air charged with energy. It pressed down on Hunk and he yelped in surprise, squeezing his eyes shut against the bright light suddenly filling his lion’s cockpit.
“Call off the mission,” you said in a hurried voice.
Hunk almost fell out of his chair. “Wh-what?” he spluttered, blinking furiously to get at least some of his sight back. When he did, and he focused on the figure standing behind him, he blinked a few more times for good measure. To make sure what he was seeing was real.
You grabbed his arm, fiery eyes burning into his with an intensity he hadn’t seen before. “Hunk. Call of the mission. Now.”
“I can’t just do that,” he said weakly, head still spinning from the rather unexpected turn of events.
You exhaled sharply. “Right. Okay. But Shiro can.” There was a flash again, and you were gone.
Hunk shook his head, still dazed, and pulled his lion to a halt. In his helmet, Pidge’s voice piped up. “Hunk, what’s wrong?” He didn’t quite know how to answer.
Then the comms crackled. “This is Y/N. Turn around and get back to the castle as quick as you can. The mission’s cancelled.” The connection broke.
There was exactly one second of silence before everyone started talking at once, but there was a flash again and something shot past Hunk’s window. It went too fast for him to make out anything more than a yellow-golden streak, but the resemblance to a shooting star was too big for Hunk to ignore. It was you. Somehow, this stripe of light was you. He was sure of it.
“Wait, wait–what just happened? Was that really Y/N?” Lance squeaked, his face appearing on Hunk’s screen along with all the others. They all looked at Shiro.
He nodded grimly. “I don’t know what that was all about. But they seemed genuinely distressed–”
Hunk interrupted before he could think better of it. “Well, actually, I don’t think they were distressed as much as they were angry. Frustrated.”
“What?”
“You know. I’ve seen them actually distressed. Scared, and everything. This wasn’t that,” he said, shrinking back in his seat because of the looks his teammates were sending him.
“They came for you too?” said Keith sharply. “I knew we couldn’t trust them–!”
“They came to me,” Hunk corrected, irritated. “And we don’t know what they’re on about. Maybe Coran got hold of some new information that changed the whole situation completely. Stop being so quick to judge.”
“Okay, so let’s assume that’s the case,” said Keith angrily. “Coran couldn’t have sent us a message?”
“Maybe there was interference! That’s happened before!” Hunk threw up his arms. “I don’t know, damn it!”
“Guys.” There was a warning in Shiro’s voice Hunk didn’t want to challenge. “We’ll discuss it back at the Castle. Let’s just get going.” He frowned. “Y/N has some explaining to do.”
You were pacing, waiting for them in the hangar. Hunk noticed now that you did look distressed, but as soon as you looked up and met his eyes a huge weight seemed to lift off your shoulders. You still acted strange–a little scary–but you hurried towards him, only stopping in front of him at the last second, looking like you had to restrain yourself from throwing your arms around him. “Thank the stars,” you breathed when every lion touched down.
Keith was out first, and he stomped up to you, yanking off his helmet and pointing an accusatory finger at your chest. “You better start explaining right now–”
“Keith,” hissed Lance from behind him, looking equally cautious and curious as to what you had to say.
You cringed away slightly. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Where’s Coran?” Allura’s eyes grew increasingly worried as they scanned the hangar for him. Then they snapped back to you and filled with fury. “If you’ve laid a single finger on Coran, I swear to–”
“He’s fine,” you assured her quickly, a dark blue blush creeping up on your cheeks. “He’s–in his room. Asleep.” You flinched when you said the words. “He wouldn’t let me go warn you, and, well... not many people know Comets produce a kind of sleeping dust.” You held up a hand. Something resembling sparkly golden sand swirled in between your fingers. Everyone took a step back, their hands hovering around their bayards and their gazes fixed on your hands. “I won’t use it on you!” you said hurriedly. “I never do, when I can help it, but I had no other choice.”
“Like you had no other choice coming to us for help?” Shiro’s voice was dangerously low. Hunk could see the fingers of his prosthetic hand flexing and curling. “It’s time you start talking, Y/N.”
You took a breath. “Most of what I said is true. My people are getting captured by the Galra and they are being drained of their quintessence.”
“But you also lied.” It wasn’t a question, yet Allura glared at you as if she expected an answer.
“I did.” You stuck your chin up slightly, your hands curling to fists at your side. “I was captured by the Galra too. And there are no more of us left. Not free, at least.” You sighed shakily. “The Galra decided they could use me for more than just my quintessence: luring Voltron into a trap. With bait they can’t resist.”
“You,” breathed Hunk. The heavy weight of betrayal settled on his chest, the floor suddenly pulled out from beneath him. His whole world had been turned upside down. You threw him a pleading look. A look that screamed I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
“Someone in need of help,” you said quietly. “They knew you wouldn’t throw me back out. Because you help people–it’s what you’re here to do.” Tears brimmed your eyes and you blinked them away angrily. “Anyway. You were supposed to find the base and ambush it, except they would be ready. You’d be captured along with the lions and eventually killed.”
The simple way you said it made Hunk want to throw up. Or maybe it was the thought of having been so close to death and not even knowing it that made his head spin. He grabbed onto the nearest pillar to steady himself.
“So all this time you knew,” said Shiro in a low voice. Again, it wasn’t a question.
You nodded stiffly. “I couldn’t–I couldn’t let you get killed.”
“Well, that’s a nice sentiment, isn’t it?” Keith growled, making half a step forward. He looked as if he physically wanted to fight you that very second. “You were going to let us get killed. While we were fighting for you.”
“But I didn’t,” you whispered pleadingly. “I know that doesn’t make up for the lies I’ve told. I really truly am sorry.” You looked directly at Allura now. “The Galra General–I don’t know his name–injected a tracker inside of me before sending me here. I managed to cut it out without destroying it.”
On your open palm lay a little metal object, about the size of a pill, covered in your strange night-sky-black blood. It was flickering with a little orange light. “It would have alerted them if they saw I left the Castle. I don’t know how long will go by before they realise you won’t be coming.”
Allura took a step back. “Keep that thing away from me.”
“I’ll take it,” said Pidge quietly before she plucked the little tracking device from your hand. She was the one who looked the less shaken by the whole situation. The one who acted the less hostile towards you. Which Hunk found strange–he’d thought Pidge would be utterly devastated, especially after having expressed her trust in you when everyone else had their suspicions.
Keith had pulled Shiro aside and was whisper-yelling to him and Allura, a mix of anger and smugness on his face. Smugness because he’d been right from the start, Hunk suspected. Lance was awkwardly hovering close enough so he could hear what they were saying, but not be an actual part of the conversation. Lance had liked you from the very first moment. He looked torn between anger and sadness, having run his hands through his hair so many times it stuck up in all directions.
You rubbed your collarbone absent-mindedly. A bandage was wrapped around your chest, barely peeking out from beneath your shirt. Hunk wondered if that was where the tracker had sat before you cut it out. You saw him look. “I kind of ruined one of your knives when I took it out,” you mumbled. “Comet blood’s close to impossible to wash off of metal. The stains are nasty.”
Hunk nodded dumbly. “Good to–good to know.”
“I think I can trace the signal this thing’s reacting to,” Pidge said as she studied the little device. “If I’m careful.”
“I’ll help,” said Hunk. Anything to take his mind off of you.
Pidge smiled at him. “Thanks.”
“Hunk?” Your voice was small, but when Hunk’s eyes met yours, he saw nothing but determination. There was a pause in which neither of you said anything, and Hunk almost lost himself in the fire that burned in them, brighter than ever. “I know you're mad at me, and you have every right to be--but this is my way of fixing a mistake.”
Hunk nodded. There wasn’t much else he could do.
Allura and Shiro decided, despite Keith’s protests, that it was best to keep you in the castle at least for a while. You still knew things that could be of possible use to them, and you didn’t show any signs of wanting to leave. As a matter of fact, when Allura informed you that you were basically their prisoner now, all you did was shrug and say “Okay.”
Not a very villainous thing to do, in Hunk’s opinion.
You were escorted to the cells, Keith and Shiro by your sides. Keith had his bayard drawn, probably because he wanted to look intimidating, because Hunk suspected you could get away from them any second you wanted, if what he’d seen in his lion was anything to go by. But you didn’t. You stayed. You were cooperative. It puzzled Hunk beyond belief.
When you were safely stashed away and Shiro and Keith had come back they all flunked down around the big dining table, plates of food goo waiting for them. It was silent for a good while. Allura had gone up to check on Coran, only returning when she was sure you had been telling the truth and he was merely asleep. With a few taps on the cheek, he was up and about again. A relief, even though Hunk had never thought you’d actually hurt Coran.
Finally Lance threw his fork down. “I just can’t believe…” His voice trailed off. “I mean, Y/N? They’re not like that! None of this makes sense.”
“They confessed, Lance. End of story.” Keith kept his gaze firm on his own plate of goo. He didn’t eat, though. Merely pushed around bits of goo with his fork.
“You know, there are parts of this that don’t make sense,” Pidge chimed in. Hunk didn’t understand how she could just chow away at her food, not with everything that just happened. “There are parts that do. And then there are parts that don’t.” She swallowed. “I get the feeling Y/N’s not telling us everything.”
“I know, Pidge,” said Allura. “It’s bothering me as well.”
“You can just ask them, you know,” Hunk muttered, sagged in his chair. “It’s not like they show resistance. They’ll answer your questions.”
“Do you have something to say, Hunk?” There was the hostile edge to Keith’s voice again.
Hunk exhaled. “No. I just don’t think it was necessary to throw Y/N in a cell.”
“They’re dangerous–”
“Okay, listen. We’re all upset, but we’re forgetting one thing here,” said Hunk, slamming down his fork, finally giving in to his irritation. “Y/N made the right choice in the end. No one got hurt. They answered all our questions and explained themselves. They cut the tracker out of their body to come warn us.”
“They’re still a traitor–!”
“Because you’re not looking at it from their point of view! I’m not saying we should immediately forgive and forget, but we can afford to go a little gentler on them, you know. Their people are being slowly killed and robbed of their quintessence, in case you forgot.”
Hunk hadn’t intended for the snide tone to edge his words, but it had crept in there anyway. He was worked up, and as he pushed his chair back and stood up, he had to curl his hands into fists to keep them from trembling. He snatched a towel up and wet it under the sink. “Don’t follow me.” And he left the room.
You were sitting with your back to the glass wall of your holding cell when Hunk pushed open the door. You immediately straightened, eyes darting around–but there was no fear in them. Only curiosity and caution, but no real fear. He pressed the button that made a panel to your cell slide open and he stepped in.
“You’re not scared I’ll kill you?” you said, a ghost of a smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eyes.
Hunk snorted, crouching down and tugging at the bandage on your chest. “Nah. Not that you’re not capable of doing so,” he added, “because I totally think you are. But I’m not worried about it.”
Your sleeve fell down a bit, and when he pushed aside the last layer of the bandage a gaping black wound was revealed, just between your shoulder and your neck. He flinched slightly at the unfamiliarity of it–but you gently pushed his hand away and tugged the bandage back into place. “It’s okay. Don’t mind that.” Hunk pretended not to see you grimace in pain.
So he twirled the wet towel in his hands and said nothing for a while. He pointedly avoided looking you in the eye.
“You don’t have questions?”
Hunk’s head snapped up. “What?”
You shrugged. “Well. I wasn’t really expecting anyone for at least a bit longer. But you’re here.” You regarded him curiously. “That must mean you have questions.”
Hunk hesitated. “Just one, really.” You waited, eyes expectant. “Why did you save us?”
You raised an eyebrow. “That’s not the question I was expecting.”
“I’m still curious.”
You mulled it over. “I guess… I don’t know. I’d started to care about you. You were so keen on helping me, and you didn’t even know who I was before I showed up–lying to you grew more painful by the day. I hated every second of it. Hated myself every second of it.” You cast him a tired look. “They promised me they wouldn’t harm her if I did it, you know. My sister.”
Hunk almost choked on air. “What?”
You sagged, back against the wall and arms crossed. “They said–they said if I refused the operation they’d kill her and make me watch. I didn’t hear anything she said, but the walls are clear. They like to be able to see their specimens.” Your voice was strangely monotone, carefully devoid of any emotion. Hunk listened with horror, unable to speak. “She was begging me not to do it. Begging. Screaming and crying and clawing at the walls. I could read her lips. ‘Don’t you do it, Y/N. Don’t you dare.’ Kyra’s always been a firm believer in peace.”
You pulled out the piece of dark cloth and started rubbing it out of habit. “This is her handkerchief. She made it herself. Used to carry it everywhere she went.”
Hunk took all of that in, mind racing with the bomb you’d just dropped. “You needed to protect your sister.”
“Twin, actually, as you’d call it. We were forged out of the same star.”
“Forged out of the same–”
“It’s Comet birth stuff. It’s complicated.”
“Right.”
A pause. Then you grabbed his hand. Your fingers curled around his, palm pulsing with a heat that coursed through his entire body from the second you touched him. If starlight was an emotion, he was currently experiencing it. He didn’t want it to ever stop.
“My sister is the only one in that facility, Hunk,” you said quietly. “They needed leverage and Kyra was perfect for it. I don’t know where the others are. I doubt they’re even still alive. But I’ve been having–I’ve been having these visions…” You shivered. “She’s getting worse. I don’t think I have much time left. I don’t know what to do.”
Hunk knew he should have been suspicious, or at least cautious to a certain degree–you had just lied to them for a month. This could just be another ploy from the Galra to make the team trust you again, but then he looked you in the eye and there was nothing but honesty there. As if you knew what he was thinking, you pulled your hand away, a dark blue blush dotting your cheeks. His hand felt oddly cold without yours in it.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Hunk. Not now. Not about this.”
“I believe you.” And he meant the words with every fibre of his being.
– – –
“They only wanted to protect their sister.”
Pidge looked up from where she was fiddling with the tracker still covered in your blood (they’d tried cleaning it, but you weren’t exaggerating when you’d said that Comet blood was impossible to get off of metal), her eyes huge behind specialised magnifying glasses. “Say what now?”
Hunk plopped down in front of her. “They were set up. The base we found is the place where the Galra are holding Y/N’s sister. They threatened to kill her if they wouldn’t cooperate.”
Pidge’s face went white. Hunk knew he’d made the right choice to tell her–they were still looking for Matt, and even though she was utterly convinced he was still alive, Hunk could see how scared she was for him. She put her tools down, fingers shaky. “You’re sure about this? How do you know they’re telling the truth?”
“They wouldn’t lie about this. Not right now,” Hunk said, echoing your words from earlier. “We have to help them.”
“We have to tell Shiro and Allura about this is what we have to do.”
“That too. And then help them.”
He started pulling her up but felt she was a little bit reluctant. He frowned. “What?”
She shrugged. “I’m just saying… They’ve lied to us before. This could just be another ploy.”
“Not this time,” Hunk said with all the confidence he could muster. And that was a lot. There weren’t many things that he was sure of at the moment, but you telling the truth about your sister was one of them. “I swear. I can swear on their behalf, they’re telling the truth.”
Allura reacted about the way Hunk had expected.
“It’s a lie,” she snapped immediately, but Hunk could sense something in her crumble. “They’re trying to finish what they started. It’s bullshit.”
“I get why you’d think that,” said Hunk, “but please just hear me out. Or better yet, hear Y/N out. It’s the truth–and it makes perfect sense. It explains why they couldn’t say exactly how they’d found us. It explains why they always were trying to do something; to take their mind off their dying sister. It explains why I found them crying on multiple occasions in their room. It explains everything, Allura.”
Allura looked torn, on the verge of tears. “I don’t want any of us to get hurt, Hunk.”
“But we know what to expect now! We can do this.”
“Wait–what’s this all about?” Keith and Lance stood in the doorway, caution painted upon both their features. Keith’s expression immediately grew guarded as Pidge quickly explained what was going on, but Lance looked, if anything, relieved.
“I knew it. I knew they weren’t a bad person.”
“No,” said Keith flatly. “I’m not having this conversation again.”
“Then don’t. You won’t even try and understand where they’re coming from,” Hunk said, irritation stinging his throat.
“Why don’t we go ask Y/N themselves?” Shiro interjected. “I wanted to go talk to them anyway.”
Keith still looked set, eyes steely. “Fine. I’ll come. To prove to all of you they’re lying again, and stop this once and for all.”
So all seven of them trudged down the stairs again to your cell. If Hunk hadn’t been so worked up, he would have made a comment about how they looked like a herd of sheep looking for their shepherd. But now wasn’t the time for jokes. His mind hummed with anticipation.
You were pacing in your cell when Shiro punched the button for the door to slide open. You looked up, eyebrows raised.
“Get out,” he said. You did. “Explain.” You cast a look at Hunk, then you did.
Everyone listened intently as you told your story. It wasn’t much different from what you’d told Hunk, so he allowed himself to look at the others’ expressions. Allura was closed off. Shiro and Lance were sympathetic, Pidge was wringing her hands–no doubt thinking about Matt–and Keith, of course, being Keith, was scowling, a few feet away from the rest of the group with his arms crossed.
“Y/N–I want to believe you. I really do,” said Allura when you’d finished talking. “But you’ve lied to us before and I don’t know whether to trust you on this.”
You gave a resigned nod. “I know. I’m not blaming you. This time, though, I’m not asking for you to trust me or to help me. I’ll be going back anyway.”
Hunk’s heart skipped a beat. “What?” he blurted.
You looked at him–really looked at him, and he felt like his knees could give out any second. “I failed the operation I was given. That’s okay. But I owe it to my sister to at least own up to that. She’ll die–I will, too, probably–and the last of the Comets will be gone forever. But I’ll go out with a bang, take the base with me and as many of the Galra as I possibly can. I won’t go peacefully. I owe that to my people.”
“No,” Hunk said before he could think better of it. “No, you don’t–you can’t do that. Why would you do that?”
“You don’t get to make this choice for me.” You stood your ground, fists balled at your sides. Before you could go anywhere, though, a hand came to rest on your shoulder.
“Y/N, Hunk’s right,” said Keith–of all people, Keith was the one trying to talk you out of this ridiculous idea. Hunk didn’t know whether he should laugh or cry. “I’m sorry I was a dick to you. But I don’t–there has to be another way. You don’t have to do this.”
You smiled before gently shoving his hand off your shoulder. “Apology accepted. Still gonna do it.” You started marching for the hangar. No one moved for a second, stunned as they all were. Hunk snapped out of his daze first, and he sprinted to catch up with you.
“Y/N! Wait.”
You stiffened. When you turned around, dark blue rimmed your eyes, sorrow and anger and determination swirling in your ember eyes. “Let me do this, Hunk.” You brought a hand up to your chest, taking a small step back when Hunk approached you. “I want to do this.”
“No, you don’t.” Hunk didn’t know exactly what he was saying, but the words started pouring out before he could stop them. The only thought looping around in his mind was Stop them. Save them. Don’t let them get hurt. “You think you don’t have a choice. You do. Let me come with you. Let us all come with you. We can save your sister and we can destroy the base. Together. Please.”
“Hunk–”
“Y/N.” He took another step closer to you. You were close now, looking up at him through your eyelashes, dark tears spilling onto your cheeks. The stone-hard determination in your eyes was starting to crumble. He took your face in his hands, pressing his forehead to yours. “There are mistakes you can’t fix. Let me come with you. Let me help you. Please.”
And then he was kissing you. Your lips were warm, warmer than he’d expected–but he was revelling in it, and when you brought a shaking hand up to his cheek and kissed him back, he felt invincible. Like nothing could touch him, because he was here and he was kissing you.
He pulled away. “Please,” he whispered.
You took a shaky breath, fingers tracing his jaw, chewing the inside of your cheek. Then you nodded, pulling back completely. Again you nodded, more sure of yourself this time. “Okay.”
A noise sounded behind Hunk’s back. He turned to see the rest of the team hanging around the doorway, looking unsure of whether they wanted to come in or not. Allura looked slightly embarrassed, avoiding eye contact. Shiro’s eyes seemed to say: Really? Right now? But he was biting back a smile. Hunk had to hold back a grin of his own as he reached for your hand. He didn’t need to look back if you took it; the heat suddenly slipping in between his fingers was all he needed.
“C’mon,” he called to the others. He couldn’t imagine they’d still refuse to come. All resistance had completely vanished from their expressions. “We have a sister and a species to save.”
You rode with Hunk in his lion, pacing behind his chair as he shot out of the hangar, wringing your hands and muttering under your breath. Hunk cast you a look over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “You okay?”
You gave him a tight smile. “Yeah. Just–worried. About Kyra.” The handkerchief had made its appearance in your hands again.
“We’ll get there soon,” said Hunk. “Kyra’s gonna be fine. You’ll see.” He hoped he was right.
During the trip, they worked up a makeshift plan. As soon as they started talking strategy, you hurried up to the front of the cockpit and steadied yourself on the back of Hunk’s chair, engaging in the conversation with sharp remarks and useful information about the base, the security there, the general layout of the place. Hunk felt a small burst of pride at how quickly you seemed to be able to readjust to a completely unexpected situation, though he also knew you were good at hiding your emotions. He would probably never truly know what went on in your mind–not unless you and him had time to work out… whatever it was that needed to be worked out. He didn’t quite know what you were to each other yet, but if the both of you came out of this in one piece…
He tried to push back the dopey smile threatening to creep up on his lips. This wasn’t the time to be thinking about an eventual future with you, damn it. There were other, more pressing matters at hand.
But your hand was warm on his shoulder and he allowed his mind, just for a moment, to wander and imagine the life you and him could lead. Together.
They arrived at the base way too soon.
They set the lions on a nearby asteroid because it would have moved closer to the base by the time they would need to get out (not much–but anything was something) and all of them piled into Pidge’s lion so she could get them to the base unnoticed. According to you, there was a blind spot at the underside of the base that wasn’t equipped with surveillance cameras, because you’d destroyed them prior to starting your mission.
Shiro had raised an eyebrow at that. “Were you planning something like this?”
You smiled a mischievous smile, and Hunk’s heart fluttered at the sight. “It’s good to be prepared.”
They touched down seemingly unnoticed. You had found some dark rags in Pidge’s lion, and Hunk had helped wrap them around your body, to at least dim the permanent glow that seeped from your skin. “How’s it look?” you said, voice muffled, from behind multiple layers of cloth that kind of made you look like a mummy, leaving only a slit for your eyes to peek through. In cases like these, it was nice that you didn’t need to, like, breathe.
“Fabulous.”
You rolled your eyes, but they crinkled at the corners, and Hunk couldn’t hold back a smile of his own. It probably wasn’t the best idea for the two of you to act all lovey-dovey in the moments before destroying a Galra base and causing general havoc, but hey–it might also be the last chance either of you had.
“Seriously. It looks fine. Very mysterious. It does the job.”
You nodded, eyes pensive. “What if we don’t find her? Or we do, but it’s too late?”
Hunk set his jaw. “We’ll blow up the base and everyone in it.”
You looked at him for a moment, ember eyes ablaze. “Sounds good.”
You were very stealthy when you needed to be.
Footsteps nearly soundless, you didn’t carry any weapons with you except a long knife the size of your forearm you’d borrowed from Keith, and you got rid of the guards you encountered quite effectively. Hunk didn’t even need to unlock his bayard the first two times. He raised an eyebrow at you. You grinned. “I might not be quite as helpless as I made it sound.”
No shit, Hunk thought.
They were lucky to have you. You mumbled to yourself as you led them through the corridors–you’d insisted on taking a small team inside (consisting of him, Pidge, and Keith) while the rest waited for your signal–as you tried to recall exactly where your sister was kept. You had to backtrack a few times, and almost caused them to run into a chattering group of Galra soldiers, but you were doing fine.
You skidded around a corner and halted, looking around, eyes suddenly bright and hopeful. “I know this. I remember this. We’re close. I can feel her.” Hunk almost smiled. They were almost there.
But then the alarms started blaring.
“What,” muttered Pidge as she furiously tapped her wristband. She looked up. “I lost control over the system. I don’t–that’s never happened before.”
“It’s okay, we have enough time,” you said quickly, making a beeline for a particular door on the far edge of the corridor. “Wait here.” And you exploded into dust.
Hunk stopped in his tracks, not quite sure of what just happened. Keith and Pidge looked just as stunned. But on the other side of the door, he could hear grunts and surprised yells, and at one point there was a clang as if something hit the door on the other side. “Uh..”
A minute later, the door hissed open and you beckoned them in. “She’s here. Come on.”
Kyra was trapped inside a cell that looked like a glass tube–but a glass tube filled with liquid and so small she had to twist herself into weird shapes to even fit in. There was almost nothing left of the glow that usually surrounded all Comets; it had dimmed to barely a shimmer rippling across her skin. Her jaw was clenched, and Hunk could see how hard she was trying to break the walls of her confinement, and when he eyes settled on you they went wide and a huge smile spread across her features. Her lips moved.
You ran up to her, pressing a hand to the tube. “Kyra.” You balled your hand to a fist. “I’m getting you out of here.”
Pidge was already moving for the control panel. Her fingers hesitantly moved over the buttons, pressing here and there and waiting for anything to happen. “I have no idea what I’m doing.” She pressed a button again. Something puffed and hissed out steam, but nothing happened.
In the distance, the rumbling of multiple Galra soldiers approached with every passing second. You launched yourself at the panel next to the door, slamming your hand on it so it closed, and then you hacked the panel off the wall with your knife. You’d successfully locked them in.
“It buys us time,” you said in response to Keith’s glare before running back to Pidge. “Can you get it to work?”
“With time. This is different from the other control panels I’ve seen, and everything is in Galran, of course… I can get it to open. How long do you think we’ve got?”
The first bang sounded on the other side of the door. It didn’t dent, but Hunk could have sworn the walls shook. His hands itched for his bayard, and he summoned it, just in case.
“Maybe five minutes,” you said, face steely but nerves lacing your voice. “Lucky us they had to reinforce the insides of this place so we wouldn’t wreak havoc.”
“Then how did you get in?” said Keith, off-topic, more out of nerves than anything else, suspected Hunk.
“They had to worry about us getting out, not getting in.”
“Right.”
A hiss. A splashing sound. And the tube retracted, liquid spilling out of it in waves and Kyra flopping onto the ground, hacking a lung out coughing (did Comets even have lungs?) and throwing her sopping hair out of her face, blinking furiously. You screamed, skidding onto your knees and slamming into her like a freight train, pressing your face into her shoulder and almost squeezing her to death.
“Y/N, Y/N,” Kyra choked out, weakly tapping your arm, “watch the ribs. Ow.”
You immediately let go. “Of course. Yeah. Sorry.” You pulled down the cloth hiding the bottom part of your face, revealing your massive grin. You frowned, pushing strands of sopping wet hair out of your sister’s face, turning her head this way and that to check if she was okay, fussing over her as you sat in front of her on your knees. Hunk suddenly felt like he was watching something very intimate, and he looked away, just for a second.
But then there was a crashing sound, and a dent appeared in the door. Pidge scrambled up, pushing her helmet back on. “We need to go. Y/N.”
You nodded. “Right. Right. Can you walk? Can you streak?”
“Walking, sure. I think. Running, maybe. Streaking, probably not,” said Kyra with a wince. She held on to your arm for a moment before taking some wobbly steps forward. “Whoa. Funny how months locked in a tiny tube can mess up one’s body.” Hunk pretended not to see how you flinched at that.
You caught his eye and nodded at him. “Now.”
Hunk gestured for everyone to flatten themselves against the wall, then told Shiro to hit them with the lasers. Not them, obviously, but the room they were in. And sure enough, a humming sound filled the air, slowly growing louder. It made the hairs on his neck stand up. Then a scorching laser beam blasted the wall next to him, only feet away from his face, and when it died down there was a smoking, red-hot round passage for them to fly through.
You went first, giving your sister’s hand a squeeze before streaking out of the vessel. (Streaking was apparently what it was called when you moved so fast that he couldn’t see anything but–well–a streak of light. Creative naming, right there.) Hunk grabbed Kyra’s hand as he fired up his jetpack and made his way to Lance’s lion, who was on his way to pick them up. You, on the other hand, were planting explosives all around the base.
Sirens were blaring. Galra fighters were pouring out of the base. Everything had to happen quickly.
Lance took them all back to the asteroid. Everyone took back their own lions. In the cockpit of his yellow lion, at the controls, knowing Kyra was sitting in the back and alive and okay, Hunk felt instantly better. He allowed himself to hope–maybe this would work out, after all.
Whilst everyone else joined the battle, he waited for a number of agonising minutes for you to return. Nobody was to engage the base before they knew for sure you were out of range and safe, and the best way to ensure that was for Hunk to wait for you. He tapped the controls with his index finger, muttering under his breath, “Come on, come on, come on,” until he saw a familiar stripe of light zoom towards him.
He opened the hatch and a split second later you came tumbling in, slamming your body against the other side of the cockpit and making the entire lion rock with your speed. You didn’t seem fazed as you scrambled up and yelled “Go! Go, go, go!”
To Hunk, there was nothing more morbidly satisfying than watching the base that had caused you and your sister so much pain blow up in a bajillion little pieces. He actually smiled at it. And he meant it. He was the last one to turn back and follow the others back to the castle.
A familiar weight settled on his shoulder. He turned his head, pressing a kiss to your hand, ignoring Kyra’s startled but smug “Oh?” in the background. You looked down at him, the fire in your eyes not quite died down–but more at peace. A light flickering, as opposed to the violent blazing he’d gotten used to. He liked it like this. It made him feel warm in the chest.
“So where are you going to go after this?” he asked softly, recalling how you’d said Comets were a nomad people. The thought of you leaving was painful, but if that’s what would make you happy…
You grinned, placing your hands around his face. “I think I’ll stay a while.” And then you pressed your lips onto his, hand leaving his face only to flip your sister off who whooped in the background. He giggled against your mouth, pulling away to kiss you on the cheek and pressing his forehead to yours.
“What?” you whispered, a smile of your own curling your lips.
He nuzzled his nose to yours. “Nothing. I’m just–glad. That everything worked out.”
You closed your eyes, muscles finally relaxing. “Me too.”
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