#hidgeweek2018

[jayphrax-art]

Day 3: Changes / Science

Don’t... don’t ask XD This au just cracked me up

[ka-r-tist]

Been saving this for hidge week, which I forgot about. Suppose to be the flower theme day whatever.

[knitbelove-draws]

Everyone knows I’m in over my head Hidge week day 4: antigravity

[jaylovcartoons]

2 PART OF HIDGE WEEK DAY TWO: FLOWERS//FAMILY!! HERE IS THE MINI COMIC I PROMISED!! ÙWÚ I HOPE YALL ENJOY AND THE DRAWING AT THE END!! 💛💚💛💚 HAPPY HIDGE WEEK

I hope y'all enjoy ówò

[hidge-resource]

i’ve been pretty busy so my other day sketches are kinda on the backburner right now but i DID have stuff for day six/AU! the first ideas for a Bones AU... pidge is bones and hunk is booth, because fbi hunk is untapped potential

[loafofbreadsblog]

Hidge week 2018

I tried my best for day 2

[formallyfreya]

Hidge Week Day 2: Flowers

“The festival is gonna start soon,” Allura reminds the team. “The Olkari went through the trouble of inviting us so we should all attend.”

“Pidge won’t leave her room,” Lance comments and everyone looks at him as he shrugs. “Says she’d just be a miserable, running nose mess if she went.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten,” Allura sighs in disappointment. “Allergens. A shame. The flowers are quite lovely.”

“And I’m sure many of the Olkari would have loved to give her some in admiration of all she’s done for them,” Coran adds. 

“She asked us to take pictures though,” Lance beams as he readies his handheld. “She’ll set them up as her wallpaper when we get back.”

*****

The team’s been gone for hours now. Pidge leans back in her chair, tiny arms stretched to the ceiling with a yawn. A shame she couldn’t go. She does miss Reiner and the other Olkari but...she’ll just have to make a personal visit when there aren’t so many flowers in bloom.

A familiar knock at the door. Guess they’re back.

“Come in Hunk,” she calls and the door opens. “How was it? Did you guys take pictures?”

Hunk walks in with slow steps. “Lance did. He’ll send them through the ships system later,” he says. “Lots of Olkari send their love. Tried to send baskets of flowers back with us. Lance took them off your hands to ‘lighten your burden’.”

“Haha, I’m sure he did,” she says with a smirk.

“Brought you something special though, since you couldn’t make it.”

She turns in the chair and sees he has his hands behind him. Oh no. An uncomfortable smile arises on her face when he pulls out a few dozen flowers. Bright yellow petals with green stems, like intergalactic sunflowers.

“Uh, Hunk, they’re gorgeous but my allergies--”

“Trust me on this one,” he says and extends them forward. “Take them.”

Uncertain, she takes the bouquet in her hands. So far so good. No sneezing as of yet. No watery eyes. Hunk gestures for her to smell them and her gut twists. This is not going to end well but she tries to smile and tilts her head to the flowers for a quick sniff.

“Huh...smells really good,” she says after a few inhales and no allergic reaction. Normally she’d be crying at this point. Her confusion must show because Hunk chuckles.

“They’re synthetic. Had Reiner make them just for you and sprinkled them with a perfume they make from the flowers there. No pollen involved,” he says and his cheeks flush with an inquiring look. “You like them?”

Pidge’s blinks with surprise as she looks down at the bouquet again. Synthetic. With perfume. Just for Pidge...from Hunk. He knew exactly what to do so she wouldn’t miss out. 

Her cheeks go rosy as she buries her face in flowers with a smile.

“I love them.”

[neversidefaerie]

Hidge Week Day One: Team Work Hunk and Pidge love doing engineering work together! 😁

[a-corndog-named-schibbs]

Hidge Week Day 6 - AU

Happy Hidge Week, y’all!

I love writing Voltron aus so I was really excited for this day.  This fic is a supernatural au with Hunk as a ghost and Pidge as a witch.  It takes place in the same universe as the Fangs and Fur au, so Vampire Lance also makes an appearance.  It’s meant to be a prequel of sorts to those fics, so Keith’s not in this one.

Enjoy and have a happy Hidge Week!

Pidge’s family had been practicing witchcraft since the middle ages.  Her parents had always taught her to approach magic as a science, with precision, care, and discipline.  She figured she was equipped to handle any sort of supernatural situation.

Then again, she’d never dealt with a ghost before.

Her friend Lance, the local friendly neighborhood vampire, had been nearly frantic when he’d called her.  He’d just bought this lovely two-story Victorian house and had been dismayed to find that it showed abundant signs of paranormal activity, from doors slamming open and closed on their own (“At two in the afternoon, Pidge!  I need my beauty sleep!”), to the dining room chandelier swaying ominously (“It costs more than a car!  What am I supposed to do if it falls?”), to kitchen utensils picking themselves up randomly and being flung across the room in anger (“I know I don’t use that room often, but I’d still like to keep it nice!”).  Over the phone, Pidge had assured her friend that she could handle a simple poltergeist throwing a tantrum, but now she wasn’t so sure.

The moment Pidge stepped through the front door, she could tell something wasn’t right about the house.  There was a heaviness to the air, as though a hand was constantly on her shoulder, faintly but insistently pushing her down.  Why hadn’t Lance noticed when he first bought the house?

“Because it wasn’t as bad when I first bought it!” said Lance, “The incidents didn’t start until I’d been here a few weeks.”

“Huh,” said Pidge, “That late?”

Lance nodded, “So what do we do?”

“Well, most ghosts want something, so I think step one is to contact the ghost and find out what’s upsetting it.  Then we can see if there’s anything we can do to make it happier.”

“Makes sense.  So…how do we contact it?  Do we need like a ouija board or something?”

“Nah, I’ll just MacGyver it.  Do you have any Christmas lights?”

“Sure, there’s a few strands in the basement.  Why?”

“Ever seen Stranger Things?”

Twenty minutes later, the two had hung up the festive, multicolored lights along a bare wall of Lance’s parlor.  Pidge took some chalk from her bag and wrote out the letters of the alphabet beneath each individual light, after swearing to Lance that she would wipe it all off later.  She stepped back and admired her work.  Now all that was needed was to get the spirit on the line.

“Spirit,” said Pidge, projecting her voice so it carried through several rooms, “we’d like to talk to you.  Can you hear us?”

There was no sound.  Then again, Pidge wasn’t expecting any.

“If you can hear us,” she said, “make these lights blink once.”

There was a long, pregnant pause.  Then the Christmas lights on the wall briefly blinked on, then off.  Lance gasped and jumped a bit.

“Now can you make the lights blink twice?”

The lights blinked twice.

“Good, that’s good.  I’m going to ask you a few questions, spirit.  Blink the lights once if the answer is yes, two if it’s no.  Do you understand?”

The lights blinked once.

“Are you aware that you’re dead?”

A singular blink.

“Did you die here?”

Another singular blink.

“Oh, lord, don’t tell me the body’s still here somewhere.” Lance muttered.

“Did you die here recently?”

A long pause, then two blinks.

“Are you a woman?”

Two blinks.

“Are you a man?”

One blink.

“Okay, sir, now I’m going to need you to spell something out for me.  Do you see the letters on the wall?”

One blink, then, for good measure, the lights next to the letters Y-E-S lit up in succession.

“That’s good,” said Pidge, “What would you like me to call you?”

The lights blinked in rapid succession, spelling out the word H-U-N-K.

“Hunk?” said Pidge, “Is that a nickname or are you flirting with me?”

The spirit took a long while to answer and for a moment Pidge worried that she had offended him.  But then the lights spelled out N-I-C-K-N-A-M-E.

“Well, Hunk, it’s nice to meet you.”

Y-O-U-R  N-A-M-E

“You want to know my name?  It’s Pidge.”

N-I-C-K-N-A-M-E  O-R  B-I-R-D

Pidge chuckled, “It’s a nickname.”

P-R-E-T-T-Y  N-A-M-E

“You know, I think this ghost is lying,” Lance whispered, leaning in close to Pidge, “He’s totally flirting.”

Pidge waved him away, “Can you tell us how you died?”

The temperature of the room dropped several degrees.  The string of lights blinked twice.  Pidge gulped.

S-H-O-W  Y-O-U

“Nope, nope, nope, nopeity no,” said Lance, “I don’t trust this one bit.”

Pidge felt something brush her hand.  It was the barest touch but still there.  She felt cold, ghostly fingers slide against her own, barely more tangible than a breeze but still distinct.

The ghost took her hand and tugged it gently in the direction of the stairwell.

“What’s happening?” Lance whispered, “What’s the ghost doing?”

“He wants me to follow him,” Pidge pointed to the stairs, “Up there.”

Lance looked mere moments away from pulling his hair out, “Pidge, this is such a bad idea.  This is like horror movie levels of bad idea.”

“Listen, I think it’s gonna be okay.  He’s not acting aggressive right now and I’ve got salt and holy water on me if that changes.  I’ll be up and back as fast as possible.  If I’m not down in thirty minutes, call Matt, okay?”

“Yeah, but…” Lance sighed, “Okay.”

“Hear that, Hunk?” Pig said, a little louder, “You’ve got thirty minutes to show me whatever you’re going to show me.”

The phantom hand tugged hers toward the stairs, a bit more insistently now, and Pidge followed the ghostly presence up the stairs to the second story and then, to her surprise, led her to the hatch of the attic.  Pidge clambered up into the dim dusty space, surrounded by piles of trunks and boxes. The ghost let go of her hand.

“Okay, we’re here,” said Pidge, “What did you want to show me?”

Across the room, a small memento box flew open with a loud squeak.  Pidge jumped and tried not to yelp.

The ghost’s hand touched her arm again.  This time a feeling of calm and reassurance filled her, emanating from the ghost.  Taking a deep breath, Pidge walked over to the open box.

Inside were newspaper clippings, yellow and brittle with age.  Pidge gently lifted the one on the top to examine it.  The title of the article read, “Henry Garrett Becomes First Colored Man to Own a Restaurant in New Altea”.  The photograph beneath the title showed a sturdily built young man with a round belly, wearing an apron and beaming with pride.  Above him hung a sign that said “Hunk’s Diner”.

“Henry Garrett…” said Pidge, “Is that you?”

A ghostly finger tapped the back of her hand once.  Yes.

Pidge flipped through the rest of the articles.  Most of them were reviews of the restaurant, all praising the excellent quality of the food and the warm, inviting atmosphere of the diner.  What caught Pidge’s attention was the last article at the bottom of the box.

It featured a picture of the house Pidge was currently standing in, but in much worse condition.  It looked like nearly half the building had collapsed, one whole side was black and charred, and smoke poured out into the sky.  The headline read, “Local Chef Dies in House Fire”.

Pidge set the clipping down, trying to keep her hands from shaking too much.

“I think I can help you now,” she said, “I’m going to try getting you to materialize in a summoning circle.  Is that all right?”

One tap to the hand.

Pidge quickly pulled out some chalk and candles from her bag.  She drew a simple summoning circle on the wooden floor and arranged and lit the candles.

“Henry Garrett,” she said in what she hoped was an authoritative voice, “I command you to reveal yourself within this circle.”

A bluish-gray haze began to appear and coalesce into a human shape within the circle.  Legs, arms, and finally a face became distinct.

In Pidge’s professional opinion, Hunk lived up to his name.  He had an open, friendly face with warm, expressive eyes and a square, masculine jaw.  He was quite bit taller than Pidge and nearly twice as wide, partially due to the round belly Pidge had noted earlier, but also due to some impressive muscle mass, particularly on his arms.  He wore a button up shirt and suspenders and kept his dark hair out of his face with a headband tied around his forehead.

“Hunk?” said Pidge softly, not wanting to spook him.

“Hi,” he said, voice low and croaky from disuse, “I guess we’ve officially met now.”

“So,” said Pidge, “I take it this used to be your house?”

Hunk nodded, “Decades and decades ago.  I guess they rebuilt it after I…after the fire.”

“Can you tell me about the fire?  How did it start?”

“You know how you’re supposed to smother grease fires?  I forgot that bit of advice,” Hunk turned his head so that his face was in profile and Pidge fought down a gasp.  Nearly half of Hunk’s face was burned away, singed almost beyond recognition.  He turned toward her again and his face returned to normal.

“I’m sorry,” said Pidge, “You didn’t deserve to die like that.”

“Can you help me at all?”

“I…I want to.  It might be tricky, though.  Usually with ghosts, in order to help them, you have to avenge their death.  But it sounds like your death was entirely an accident.”

“Oh.”

“That doesn’t mean there’s nothing I can do!” said Pidge quickly, “I don’t know if I can help you move on, but I can maybe help you find a sense of peace while you’re here.  Was there something you particularly enjoyed doing in life?  Something that gave you happiness?”

“Cooking,” said Hunk, “I was always happiest when I was cooking in my restaurant.  It felt good, you know?  Serving others, making their days just a little bit better…I lost that when I died.  I thought maybe it would be good to have someone living here again, making sure the kitchen at least gets put to good use, you know?  But it turns out he doesn’t even eat.”

“So that’s why you freaked out.”

“Yeah,” Hunk looked down, “Sorry about that.  Your friend’s name is Lance, right?  I didn’t mean to scare him so bad.  He seems like a nice guy.  I was just frustrated and didn’t know how to tell him what was wrong.”

Like a toddler, Pidge thought.  Out loud, she said, “I think I might have an idea of how to help you.”

“I’ll try anything.”

“If you had a place where you could cook again, where you could help make food for others, would that make you happier?”

Hunk nodded, “Yes.  Yes, that’d be fantastic!”

Pidge smiled, “Then I think I know where we can put you.  My family owns this shop, a sort of café-and-bookstore combo, and I’m sure my mom would love having your help doing the baking in the morning.”

“That sounds great!” said Hunk, beaming, “But…how do I get there?  I’ve tried leaving the house, but I never make it past the yard.”

“It would be a little tricky, transferring you from one building to another.  Luckily, you’ll have the help of the most talented witch in town.”

“And who’s that?”

“Me.” said Pidge, grinning.

“Pidge?” Lance’s voice floated up through the attic hatch, “You still alive up there?  You better not have hurt her, ghost, or I’ll kick the ectoplasm out of you!”

“I’m fine, Lance!” Pidge called, “And while you’re here, there’s someone I want you to meet.  We’ll definitely be seeing more of him in the future.”

She turned and gave Hunk a smile.  Hunk smiled back and took her hand again.  She could see right through his fingers, yet they felt as warm and as solid as life itself.

[jayphrax-art]

Day 2: Flowers / Family

Hidge Flowershop!AU anybody?

[sebayard]

This was originally going to be something else but I really wanted to get something out for this day. I hope you like this little drabble!!

Hidge Week: Day 4: Anti-Gravity

Pidge has been on his mind a lot lately.

There’s something about the way she bites her lip when she thinks. Or maybe it’s the way she glows when she works on something. Or maybe it’s the way her hair sticks up on end when she slept on it while wet. Or or or or…

Or maybe it’s the thump thump of his heart whenever he sees her smile. Whenever he makes her smile.

And the thing is, Hunk doesn’t know when it started, just that it’s happened and now there’s no stopping this… this free fall, this dip into something unexplainable and foreign and bewildering and terrifying.

But it’s not terrifying, is it? Not really. It’s not the kind of terror that works it’s way into your gut and freezes your bones and your lungs and your mind. Hunk… Hunk knows that kind of terror, knows what it’s like to look death in the eye and feel it squeeze around your throat. No. This… this thing, is different. It’s so far from that familiar feeling. He looks Pidge in the eye and feels safe and understood and warm and happy. In that sense it’s not terrifying at all, because, believe it or not, falling in love with Pidge has been the most peaceful and calming experience in space yet.

There’s something about her that makes him feel like he’s free floating, his gravitational pull to the safety of all that’s familiar thrown off center completely. And she meets him there, in the middle of it. She grabs his hand, pulls him downward, centers him. With her there, in the midst of a free-fall he feels grounded.

There’s something about Pidge. He doesn’t know what it is, what it is that makes her different from his other friends, but Hunk knows that it’s unfamiliar and foreign from anything that he’s ever felt.

It’s not unwelcome. Far from it. It is exhilarating and breathtaking and lovely and he loves…

…Ah.

Maybe that’s it then.

Love.

He loves her.

…

Amazing.

[knitbelove-draws]

Today’s the day I’ll make you mine, 
So get me to the church on time
. Take my hand in this empty room, 
You’re my girl, and I’m your groom.
 Come to me, my sweetest friend; 
This is where we start again.

Hidge Week Day 6: Wedding/Au rambles under the cut

[Image description: Older Pidge and Hunk embrace with Hunk’s nose touching Pidge’s cheek, both have their eyes closed and are smiling gently.  Pidge is wearing a tichel (a wrap covering her hair), oval glasses, a boat-neck dress, and we can see a wedding ring on her left hand on Hunk’s shoulder.  Hunk is wearing a suit, and he has a full beard and long hair which is tied back in a bun.  End description.]

So I guess “the future” counts as an AU?  This is a scene from my same ficverse as Interstellar Medium and You Outshine the Morning Sun, and takes place after everything I’ve published so far.

For their 19th wedding anniversary (because 19 is the 8th prime number, and 8 is a power of 2), Pidge and Hunk have a “second wedding” and renew their vows, with both of their daughters in attendance.

Pidge started wearing a tichel occasionally while she was nursing their younger daughter, for a number of reasons: first, it’s convenient, since she was growing her hair out and with a baby doing your hair is a chore.  Wrapping it up is easier and keeps it out of curious baby fingers too.  Second, she wears it as a connection to her ancestors; she was never much of one for religion at all, let alone mitzvot, but her experience as a mother is making her feel that connection to all the mothers who came before her.  Third, related to second, the tichel is a symbol of her marriage, which is why she’s wearing one for their second wedding.  Hunk likes it, and Pidge feels sexy and feminine when she’s wearing it, and there’s the bonus of Hunk getting to remove it when they’re alone together.  After everything that Pidge’s hair has been through in her life, she feels like taking control of it like this, this act of making it something sensual when she chooses, is a part of her being the one in charge of her own life.

[vixensheart]

Teamwork

“We rise by lifting others”-Robert Ingersol

Broad, muscled shoulders and thick, well muscled arms enraptured her. Was she ogling? Pidge wasn’t sure. But the worry vanished from her mind when Hunk shifted and his arm muscles bulged. Oh quiznack. She gulped, completely entranced.

Pidge was never one for crushes. Sure, they was the occasional person that made her heart a flutter, but that was well before her dad and brother got lost in space. After her family was torn in half, she’d made a vow to stop at nothing to find them, leaving no time for silly schoolyard crushes.

So perhaps it was suffice to say that she was...inexperienced in the romance department.

She watched as Hunk moved again, wiping his brow, tools gripped firmly in his hands. Romelle and Coran lingered close by, offering assistance, but Pidge hardly noticed them. They were busy performing repairs on the lions, Hunk inadvertently providing quite the show with his rolled up sleeves and massive arm muscles. It was enough to make her blush like an idiot.

“Pidge? Are you listening to me?”

She blinked, snapping her gaze to Lance. He sat across from her, his face illuminated by a computer screen and drawn in a suspicious pout. Pidge gulped. “What?”

Lance let out an irritated huff. “I said can you look at this line of code for me? I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

The two of them were attempting to hash out a series of code to beef up the security of the coalition’s network. Of course, Pidge preferred to take up such ventures with Hunk, as he was almost just as good at coding as she was.

Almost.

But Hunk’s expertise was needed to upkeep the lions; since their castleship was gone, routine work was a must, and Hunk’s engineering prowess was needed now more than ever. Which left Lance as her coding buddy for the time being.

The former blue paladin was surprisingly adept at this. Pidge wasn’t expecting Lance to be as knowledgeable as he was. Sure, he had nothing on her or Hunk, but he knew enough. It was something she’d noticed about him over the course of the year or two they’d been out in space; Lance was exceptionally good at a lot of things, but only the best at a few things. Namely sharpshooting.

Pidge roused herself from her seat on the dirt, crawling over to Lance’s side. “Move,” she grumbled, peering down at his screen. It took half a second to find where Lance had mistyped, and she fixed it with a few deft keystrokes. “There.”

Lance hummed, squinting at the screen. “Thanks,” he muttered. He typed out a few more lines, before glancing back up at her. “What’s got you so distracted, anyways? Last time I helped with this, you were breathing down my neck.”

Her face heated up, and Pidge stared at her keyboard. “Lance?”

“Hmm?”

“How do you know if you have a crush on someone?”

There was a beat of silence. Pidge risked a glance at him, her face aflame. She was met with a look of intense scrutiny as Lance processed her question. His gaze flickered from her, to the object of her distractions; Hunk.

“Pidge, if you’re asking me a question like that, I think you already know the answer.”

She blushed harder. “I wouldn’t be asking if I knew, Lance.”

Truthfully, she really wasn’t sure. What if this wasn’t a crush? What if she just...thought that Hunk was attractive, and that was it? Lately, Pidge felt that her feelings regarding their friend were a confused and indecipherable blob.

Lance fixed her with a dull stare. “Let me guess, you feel all ‘ooey gooey’ when he’s around,” he said, using air quotes for emphasis, “you want to spend time with him, like, all the time, you find yourself enjoying even the most mundane conversations with him, you think he’s super hot, or whatever...need I go on?”

Pidge gulped, wide-eyed. He hit the nail on the head, and she was suddenly terrified. Oh. Oh, quiznack. This really was a crush. Pidge stared at the lines of coding on her screen, her mind a maelstrom of despair.

“So...how’s it going?”

Both Pidge and Lance jumped, whirling around to see Keith standing there. He stared down at them, his brows drawn up inquisitively. Lance shrugged, a wolfish grin warming his features. “It’s going, right Pidge?”

She squinted at him, suspicion swirling in her gut. That mischievous look very rarely meant anything good. Her lips tugged into a frown, and she offered a one-shouldered shrug. “Yeah, it’s going.”

“Just coding, chatting, bonding...Pidge was just telling me that she has a crush on-”

Pidge launched herself over the computers and tackled Lance to the ground, smothering him. “N-nothing! He learned nothing!” she squeaked. Keith glanced between them, looking unconvinced. He didn’t press the issue, though, instead shrugging.

“Well, can I borrow Lance? I need a sparring partner, and my mom is busy.”

She glared at Lance, who was staring at her wide-eyed. “Sure,” she muttered. Pidge crawled off of him, and Lance scrambled away to freedom. She glowered after him, grumbling at the cheeky wink he shot her way.

Keith gave her an odd look before shrugging and meandering away, Lance tailing close behind. She was alone once more. Pidge let out a sigh and hid her face in her hands, her heart still pounding in her chest.

Great. She had a crush on Hunk. Her friend. Her best friend, outside of Matt. What had led her down this disastrous path? Pidge risked peeking up at the boy in question, freezing when their gazes clashed. Hunk grinned, waving at her. She squeaked-yes, squeaked-and forced her gaze back onto the computer screen.

Lance’s coding blinked in front of her, but Pidge hardly noticed. She supposed she should have come to this conclusion much sooner. It was, as Lance had inferred, rather obvious. Hanging around Hunk was the bright spot in her day. Conversation just flowed with such ease between them. They could talk for hours about anything and everything. Sometimes, on late nights working on whatever project they needed for the coalition, Pidge found their conversations turning to things she only ever spoke of to Matt.

Her hopes, dreams, fears. Hunk knew them all.

There was also no denying how entranced she was by his eyes. And smile. And muscles. One look into those bright, loam-colored eyes, and she was weak in the knees.

They were a dynamic duo, as well. It was no secret that they worked well together. Their minds were sharp and hardwired to solve problems and together, they were unstoppable. Working with Hunk was a freeing experience, one Pidge enjoyed wholeheartedly.

Pidge sighed. One thing was for certain, she was not going to let her silly crush affect her friendship. How to do that, however...she stared at the screen, a knot forming in her gut. She needed advice. But who to ask? The cursor blinked on the screen, screaming the obvious answer.

Oh, quiznack. She was going to have to ask Lance.

Pidge let her gaze meander back to Hunk, fixating on his firm, well toned back. Heat blossomed on her face, but she couldn’t look away. Perhaps...that could wait. For now, she supposed she could enjoy the view.

~FIN

[loafofbreadsblog]

BOOM

[formallyfreya]

Hidge Week Day 1: Teamwork

“You ever think about the Garrison?” Lance wonders aloud from the floor of the cargo bay.

Both Pidge and Hunk sit at their desk and the chair respectively. Pidge typing away and Hunk fiddling with some contraption in his lap. Pidge says nothing but Hunk hums with a nod, just barely acknowledging the question.

“Hey, Pidge pass down the flaxenbolt-screwdriver?” Hunk says off hand and reaches up.

“Yup,” she says back. Still typing away with one hand she digs into a drawer and finds the tool. Then passes it off.

“Everything is so different now…” Lance sighs.

“Not really. Where’s the cymboler-cutter?” Hunk asks.

“In my bag,” Pidge answers and kicks over the backpack without looking. “Help yourself.”

“Where in there?”

“I dunno, just search until you find it,” Pidge shrugs dismissively. “Or shake it until it falls out.”

“You see! That’s so different!” Lance shoots up and points. “Pidge never would have let you into her bag, free reign when we were still on Earth! To dump her things onto the ground? She’s have bitten your hand! Like a territorial Chihuahua!”

They pause their respective activities for a second and think. That’s right. At the Garrison...Hunk was always getting yelled at for touching Pidges stuff or going through her things. She was very protective of it all. And Hunk...he never asked before going into other people’s stuff. Figured no one would mind if he was careful.

Pidge is still pretty territorial when it comes to her things but with Hunk she doesn’t mind so much anymore. And Hunk...well he always asks now. He’s very polite about it and respectful of her answers. And then they fell into a rhythm of being around each other. Pidge isn’t sure what to call what they have but it’s closer than she’s been with anyone.

Guess things really are different from the Garrison days. But in the best way.

“Found it,” Hunk says and puts all the other objects back inside. “There’s also an Olkari granola bar in here.”

“Oh yeah, I thought you might get hungry later,” Pidge tells him and extends one of her hands. “Break a piece off for me?”

Hunk nods and breaks it in half, handing it up. She takes it and shoves it into her mouth, half of it hanging out as she chews it slowly. Her hand reaches out again and pats Hunk on the head.

“Thanks, Hunk,” she says through her food.

“No problem,” he answers through his own mouthful of food. “I don’t think things are that different. We’re just a better team as a whole now.”

Lance can’t help but turn that perplexed look into a smile as he sees Pidge’s foot nudge gently against Hunk’s knee. Perhaps the whole of Voltron is a better team but the strongest team is sitting right before him, sharing a snack and their company with each other.

[hidge-week]

Hidge Week Starts Tomorrow!

Hello, everyone! Hidge week starts tomorrow! To participate, all you you have to do is post practically anything featuring Hunk and Pidge and use the tag #hidgeweek2018 within the first 5 tags so we can find it and share it with all of you!

The prompts are as follows:

Monday August 6- Garrison Days/Teamwork

Tuesday August 7- Flowers/Family

Wednesday August 8- Changes/Science

Thursday August 9- Cooking/Antigravity

Friday August 10- Friends-to-Lovers/Stars

Saturday August 11- Wedding/AU

Sunday August 12- Free Day

And because life happens, late submissions are more than welcome. Cant wait to see you there!

-Mod Pidgeon