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bodhimcbodeface · 6 years ago

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So @apaladinagain challenged me ages ago to write a fic based on my cute date idea: get flu shots post, and then I actually got a flu shot Sunday and remembered it.

For @cheesethesecond, who appreciates my love for Hunk and hugs and the combination thereof.

“Oh, yeah, we should be getting that soon,” Hunk notes, as he and Keith pass yet another vaccine poster on their way back from lunch. “They’ll probably be expecting us to, you know, being Paladins and all.”

Keith shrugs. “Yeah, I guess they probably will be.” Keith knows it’s important that all of the aliens coming to earth don’t spread all of their alien pathogens around. The Garrison’s made that abundantly clear, with the posters that started plastering every wall maybe two weeks after fighting off Sendak:

WE CAN ALL DO OUR PART IN KEEPING EARTH SAFE!

He knows it’s important, but he’d really rather change the subject.

“How’s your ankle, by the way?” he tries. “Still bugging you?”

“No, Coran actually got me in a pod yesterday. Healed up in like half an hour, check it out:” He does a little spin on the offending foot, then finishes with jazz hands. Keith laughs, mostly from relief. But then Hunk gives him a curious, quirked-eyebrow look, and he tenses again.

“Would the vaccine work for you, anyway?” Hunk asks. “Being, you know, half-Galra?”

“Yeah, they said I should go ahead and get it.” He could go into the details the doctor gave him, but he’d really rather talk about anything else. He scans the hallway for something interesting—

“Cool, you want to get it now, then?” Hunk interjects. “We have like an hour and a half to kill before that briefing.”

“Nah, I was gonna, uh...train with Shiro.” Plausible enough.

But Hunk gives him another look. “Um, didn’t Shiro say he was taking a nap after lunch?”

“Oh...yeah, he did, but that was, um…”

“What, some kind of code?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s code. For training.”

“Secret training?”

“He didn’t want anyone to feel bad for not going?” Keith tries.

Hunk stares at him. They just started training again a few days back, and Shiro’s been starting every session with a talk about how they’re all still recovering and need to listen to their bodies. Everyone trains when they can, and so far no one’s had any problems, certainly nothing that would merit training in secret.

“Fine, you got me.” Keith sighs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I don’t like needles, okay?”

“Okay, so Shiro is taking a nap?”

“Um...as far as I know, yeah.”

“Good, you had me worried there for a sec. The guy needs a break from all this Atlas crap. I mean, just let the Garrison handle some of it, they owe him that much.”

“I don’t like needles,” he says more slowly, wondering if Hunk heard him the first time.

“I mean, no judgment here, man, look who you’re talking to.”

“That’s a...good point.” Keith’s really not sure why he’s so flustered by this. “Uh, no offense.”

Hunk shrugs. “None taken.”

They walk in silence for a moment. Hunk looks like he’s waiting for Keith to say something. And Keith does want to say something, but he’s not sure what that something is.

“Would it help if I went with you?” Hunk finally offers.

“What, hold my hand?” He means it sarcastically, but it comes out sounding almost like a request.

“If you want,” Hunk replies. Keith can’t tell if he caught the sarcasm.

“What about you? Are you okay with needles?”

He’s really not sure if he wants to hear yes or no. On one hand, he’s never really been good at helping Hunk through anxiety; but on the other hand, at least it would be reciprocal.

“Believe it or not, I’m fine with them. Not that I’m, you know, sticking myself for the fun of it, but my sister’s diabetic, so I’m pretty used to seeing them around.”

Yeah, no, that answer is definitely worse. Not even Hunk is scared, for fuck’s sake. He feels his cheeks grow hot with embarrassment, and then to his horror, there are actual goddamn tears, which just makes him more embarrassed, which means more tears, and next thing he knows Hunk is pulling him aside.

“Are you okay, man? What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” He rolls his eyes at himself, then keeps his gaze on the ceiling for another few seconds until he’s sure the threat of tears is gone. “It’s dumb. I just feel dumb.”

“What, you mean because you’re scared of needles?”

“I mean. Yeah. I’ve fought battles, I’ve fought Zarkon, I’ve faced things that could actually kill me!”

“Shiro’s scared of needles.”

Keith feels his face grow hot again with anger at that. “That’s not the same and you know it!”

“Well, it’s not rational. He knows they won’t actually hurt him.”

“Right, but he has actual trauma around that, Hunk, he associates them with...with actually being hurt.”

“And what do you associate them with?”

“I don’t know! That’s the point, I don’t have a bad experience, I just don’t like them. Like I said, it’s dumb!”

“Whoa, whoa okay!” Hunk holds his hands up placatingly, and Keith realizes too late that he probably looks like he’s about to bite his head off. The comparison still makes him furious; it feels like they’re trivializing Shiro’s real and justified pain. But he knows Hunk didn’t mean it that way, so he takes a breath and tries to calm himself down.

“Okay,” says Hunk, “you and Shiro probably need to talk about that, but I’ll back off. What about me, though? I’m scared of everything, you know that.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

But people expect you to be? But you’re not a leader? But you’re...you? All of those answers sound cruel and unfair, and Keith knows it.

He sags his shoulders, conceding.

“Look, Keith, I remember what you said about me being brave. And that meant a lot. But rules are rules, my dude, and they apply to everyone or no one. So either we’re both scared of things and brave for facing them, or we’re both cowards. You take your pick.”

“Let’s be brave, then,” Keith says, and since he’s already being brave, he throws his arms around Hunk and squeezes tight. Hunk returns the hug in an instant, lifting him off the ground until his lungs protest and he grunts to be put down safely.

“Ready to go keep earth safe?” Hunk asks.

Keith smiles. “Only if you hold my hand through it.”

#voltron #sometimes i write things #hey look i actually #wrote things #the secret is to not switch over to tumblr every time you feel mildly anxious and want to avoid it!#who'da thunk?

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wendihoe · 6 years ago

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Yikes I guess I really played myself with klance didn't I

#klance #sheith #voltron #yikes who da thunk id pick the wrong ship #tbh i still think klance is better but comgrats yall win?#lol

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chaoticevilbean · 4 years ago

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Voltron Humans are Weird 2/?

Lance tapped his fingers against the ground again and again, eyes boring into the laser wall that kept them trapped in the cell. Two sentries stood outside, stiff and cold. He had been silent from the moment the Galra had captured him and Pidge on their intelligence-gathering mission. The others were sure to come for them, but the Cuban worried about what might happen before then. Pidge was his little sister in all but blood. He didn't know how he'd survive anything happening to her.

Loud, heavy footsteps pounded their way towards the cell, causing Pidge to scoot closer to Lance, her hands clenched and shoulders tight. The older Paladin moved a bit in front of his comrade, just as tense but ready to fight anyone who tried to hurt the younger. A large Galran commander, broad and furred, stopped at their cell, motioning at the sentries to lower the laser wall. They obeyed, and the commander walked towards his prisoners, teeth bared in what was either a smile or a snarl.

"So we've finally caught some of the famous Voltron Paladins," he growled out. "And you were foolish enough to bring the Green Lion along. Three little presents for the Emperor. Only," the Galra paused, and his mouth closed as he smirked, "he doesn't care about the condition the Paladins of Voltron are in. Which means I can do whatever is necessary to obtain the possible information you have."

"I knew the Galra were stupid, but I didn't know you were dumb enough to think that we'd give you intel."

"Silence, Voltron scum. With the right methods, you'll give me anything I want." Lance grimaced, but quickly turned it into a smirk. The Paladins had learned rather quickly that it is much harder for aliens to lie or hide their emotions, so even amateur acting among humans would be considered highly skilled for other races. It worked to Voltron's advantage that Terrans were underestimated by aliens, leaving them to believe that such skills like lying were beyond the humans' level. Even the Alteans had yet to figure out that the Paladins could lie with ease.

"We're trained in the art of torture, both in inflicting pain upon our enemies in ways that leave them begging for mercy, and in withstanding that which is inflicted upon us. We have watched each other suffer and learned to defy our natural protective instincts. Unless you have something new to give us, which I highly doubt, there is no way you will succeed in getting information." Pidge side-eyed her companion, but was quick to catch on and smirk as well, as though completely confident in her abilities to resist torture.

"Then I guess we'll give you something new, Blue Paladin," the commander sneered, signaling the sentries to grab Lance. As he was dragged out, the Cuban's only thoughts were of how it was him and not his little sister. The Green Paladin looked on with a stoic face, set in the act that had only just begun, but horror was in her eyes.

Lance was taken to a new room and stuck in a chair. He was flanked by two sentries and four Galran soldiers lined the walls. The door closed with a slam, and the Blue Paladin knew he had no chance of fighting his way out. Though he followed Pidge's lead in retaining an expression of indifference, his heart clenched at the thought that whatever torture they had in mind didn't require restraints. It was a scarier notion than if he had been completely subdued.

The commander moved into Lance's view, his sneer still present. He beckoned a soldier forward, a large box in their hands. It was placed on the table, a dull thunk echoing in the room. The soldier scurried backwards as the contents of the container were unloaded. Several beakers, a few sealed cartons, and a plate of what seemed to be mint leaves. Lance attempted to maintain his straight face, keeping himself as still as possible as he studied the probable poisons. It made sense now. He had no chance of fighting his way out, and poison didn't require restraints. All it required was getting it into the desired person's system.

"Well, Paladin, I do hope that you've prepared for your inevitable demise. Maybe you'll manage to squeeze out a surrender as you burn from the inside." As he spoke, the hulking Galra opened one of the cartons, carefully using a scoop to measure out some bright red powder. He seemed extremely cautious of the substance, and Lance tensed in anticipation. The scoop was brought towards his face, and the sentries on either side of him held their guns aimed at his head. His only chance of living was ingesting whatever was given to him.

The commander grasped Lance's jaw, forcing the human's mouth open and dumping the powder in. The boy's eyes widened as he tasted the poison. It... was... spicy. All of the Galra in the room were staring at their prisoner, the underlings peering nervously at him as though he were about to collapse.

But Lance's mind was elsewhere. The poison was spicy, not a whole lot, but maybe like a jalepeno, and only for a moment before it started to fade. He had swallowed immediately, and the burn felt no worse than his mother's mild chili, made for the young ones and their low tolerances. Many of the foods in space were bland, practically tasteless. Even if this poison was deadly, Lance wanted more. He missed spicy foods, missed the burn and the numbness that came with them. He was the kind of person that had tried ghost peppers and Carolina Reapers for fun.

"Is the pain so much that you can't speak, oh great Paladin," his captor asked with venom and victory in his voice. "Do you think you were prepared enough for this?"

"What is this," Lance suddenly questioned, turning to face the Galra head-on with curiosity dominating his expression. The being was surprised, but nonetheless answered.

"A deadly poison that burns through all it touches, C18H27NO3. We learned the human word from the Champion when he was given a small portion of it, to test his strength. Your species calls it capsaicin."

"Capsaicin?" The commander nodded, his smirk back in place, though it disappeared with the next words. "I love this stuff! When my team comes to save us, can we have your supply?"

"For what?" one of the soldiers spoke up fearfully, their eyes trained on the Terran.

"For food! We use capsaicin to season our food! It's delicious!"

"It burns!"

"I know! It's sooo good!" The commander slammed his fist onto the table, growling. He closed the carton and moved it aside, pulling one of the beakers over instead.

"Perhaps this will be better suited for our motives!" His voice raised as he shoved the glass container over to Lance. The boy was less nervous about this, instead grasping the beaker and promptly downing the entire dark liquid. If the powder was capsaicin, then chances are the other 'poisons' were actually not toxic to him. Hunk had once mentioned that many foods humans consumed were considered highly poisonous. The liquid was black tea, served cold.

"So why is black tea considered poisonous? Lemme guess, the caffeine?" The Paladin leaned back in his chair, arms rising to go behind his head. He was greatly amused by the faces of the Galra in the room, and decided that he would take this to the next level. Their own plan reversed and used against them.

The Cuban leaned back forward, bent over the table as he grabbed another beaker. It was fizzing, so he assumed carbonated soda. It was indeed Diet Coke, or something similar.

"Man, these poisons are failing at their jobs. The first is in many dishes back home, the second is used to keep people awake, and this one is soda. We drink it as a common beverage or a treat." He snatched a carton next, pulling out a piece of pineapple. "Mmm, bromelain. The snack that eats you back." He popped the fruit into his mouth, then a few more, chewing with vigor at the delicious taste. Oh how he had missed Earth foods.

He proceeded to wash down the snack with some of the next beaker, though he stopped halfway through chugging it when he realized what it was.

"Shiro will kill me if I get drunk, and I'm not risking it to prove a point. Ethanol may be a fun recreational drink, but not for kids." The Galra seemed more alarmed at that (though Lance would only later learn it was a combination of him referring to himself as a kid and calling ethanol a fun recreational drink), but Lance was already grabbing the container of clear liquid.

"Seriously? You guys think water is poisonous?"

"THAT IS DIHYDROGEN MONOXIDE AND YOU SHOULD BE DEAD TEN TIMES OVER!" the commander screamed in the Terran's face. Said Terran sighed.

"Bud, humans need dihydrogen monoxide, or water as we call it, in order to survive. Our planet is literally 70% of this stuff. It rains this stuff. We sweat this stuff. I told you that there weren't any methods that could get me to talk. Now pass over those mint leaves and whatever else you think should kill me. I want to save it for Hunk so we can have some food that actually has flavor for once."

The alarms blared before any of the soldiers or higher-up could respond. All personnel rushed from the room, desperate to leave the human behind. Lance was perfectly happy to wait. Chances are they would forget about Pidge due to his terror tactics, and that meant that the sentries would-

Yep, there they were, powering down. The others must've been spotted on the cameras while getting the female Paladin out. Lance got to his feet, whistling a merry tune. He put all the containers and the plate back into the box, closing the lid. With a small heave, he began his way out, carrying his cargo towards where the Lions were most likely to be held.

About five minutes into his rather casual escape, Keith and Pidge came barreling around a corner. The smaller one let out a sigh of relief, pleased to see her brother-in-arms unharmed. Both showed confusion at the box, but neither questioned it, reserving that for later when they weren't on an enemy ship. Instead, they each grabbed a side of the Blue Paladin and his cargo, and took off once more for the exit route.

It took them an hour to get back to the Castle, between lugging the box back to the Green Lion, taking care of any soldiers between them and their escape, and getting rid of the cruisers. Lance immediately disembarked the robotic feline and headed for the kitchen, box in his arms. The other Paladins followed after, curious as to what was so important their comrade risked his freedom to obtain it. Pidge and Keith also wanted to get the story of how Lance wasn't locked up or injured in any way when they found him.

In the kitchen, the Blue Paladin of Voltron began unloading the contents of his prize, and Pidge immediately whipped out a scanner. Her face lit up at the sight of her screen, recognizing what the information was saying about the 'poisons'.

"No. Way," she whispered, looking up at Lance with the biggest smile ever. "No. Quiznacking. WAY! OH MY GLOB, YOU FOUND EARTH FOOD!"

"That's Earth food?" Hunk picked up.

"Quiznack yeah! No more tasteless goop!"

"You risked not escaping to get food?"

"Shiro," Lance called, silencing the chaos that was rising. "I told them that we Paladins are trained in the art of torture and can withstand both our own pain and watching each other in pain. Told them that there wasn't anything they had that could hurt us enough to break our wills." Shiro blanched for a moment before he realized what that meant. The Galra would always take whatever the Paladins said as truth. "That commander that tried to torture me thought he had some great way to break me... Poison."

"They thought these were poisons?" Keith asked incredulously. Lance nodded.

"Not only did it let me know that they don't know anything about humans who train against torture, but also nothing about human biology. I mean, even if all of this was actually toxic to us, a lot of people that learn to resist torture build up immunities to poison as well. They know nothing about us. And guess what, Hunk?"

"Hmm?" Hunk's eyes caught the mischievous glint in his bro's eyes. This was gonna be good.

"The first thing they gave me... a scoop of capsaicin."

"No way." Matching grins spread on the duo's faces. At the Garrison, in their first three months there, Lance would eat jalepenos with every meal thanks to the large variety of food the cafeteria provided. A benefit of going to a prestigious school that felt a little bad about how hard it pushed its students. He kept eating the peppers at every meal and as snacks for his entire school experience, but in those first three months, the other students couldn't seem to believe it. Some thought he was exaggerating his tolerance of spiciness, and some wanted to see how much he could handle. Soon enough, there were kids buying the spiciest foods and peppers they could, then going up to Lance at meals or between classes to bet against him eating it. Every single time, Lance would accept the bet, devour the food, and pull the money from his stunned peers' fingers. Several occasions, he was late to Iverson's class and was seen towing whatever frozen kid had bet that time behind him. Iverson hated it when that happened, mostly because every other student vouched that it wasn't Lance's fault and that he was probably suffering an awful burning sensation at that very moment. He wasn't.

By the end of those three months, he had gained over $3,000 from the bets, and the faculty couldn't do anything. He split the money with Hunk, especially when his roommate used that money to buy spices for food he would always share with the Cuban. Throughout the rest of the school year, whenever someone new transferred in, the other students convinced them to do a bet as well, if only so they could watch someone else suffer as they had suffered. It continued the next year as a tradition, with former peers tricking both younger and older kids to bet, and some bringing in items they had saved just for that occasion. Pidge was never tricked into betting, due to her insistence on being alone, and neither was Keith, because he was an extreme loner that no one could seem to befriend.

Hunk and Lance therefore both knew that there was no way aliens, who couldn't handle capsaicin, who had practically tasteless food because of their intolerances, could somehow give Lance something spicy enough to hurt him in any way.

"Someone want to clue us in?" Pidge asked, eyeing the rest of the Garrison Trio.

"Did you ever hear about the Spice King?" Hunk shot back, as way of a response.

"I did," Keith interjected. "I never met them, but I heard that it was someone who could eat anything from bell peppers to Carolina Reapers and still make it to class on time."

"Oh, I think I did, too," Pidge exclaimed. "I heard in passing, but I was so obsessed back then that I never found out anything more than they existed."

"Well, the Spice King was a kid in our year," Hunk started. "He was this dude who could indeed eat anything spicy. The only reason he was ever late to class was because he made sure that whoever gave him the food got there as well. They almost always froze up because he would just accept what they gave and eat it on the spot. Kids in our year bet against him every day, multiple times on some. The dude earned a few thousand because they wouldn't stop. Usually, students would convince others to bet against him just because they wanted it to be done by everyone. Happened every year as well."

"Adam told me about that kid. Apparently, the teachers couldn't do anything to stop the betting. It wasn't gambling because the outcome was always the same and it wasn't like anything was being sold. Do you know who he is?" Shiro had his arms crossed as he stared curiously at the Yellow Paladin, who was now beaming in excitement.

"It was Lance."

Silence.

"The Galra tried to feed me, the Spice King, a spoonful of spice to make me give them information. Apparently, it was supposed to burn really badly. It wasn't even that bad. Barely jalepeno level. And then the commander went for some really dark liquid, and at that point, I was like 'if they think capsaicin is poison, what else do they got that is poison to them, but not to me' and so I just took the beaker from them and downed it. It turned out to be black tea, and I just gave up on the whole pretending to be a prisoner because they thought I was gonna die from caffeine. Caffeine. If I remember correctly, I had soda, water, pineapple, and a bit of alcohol, but- but," Lance held up a hand to stop Shiro's lecture, "I only chugged it because I didn't know what it was and I stopped the moment that I realized it was ethanol. Although, to be honest, it was really watered down. Well, not watered down, because water is supposedly toxic, but it was real weak. Like, a preteen could probably drink that entire beaker and it wouldn't do anything. It's right... here." He pushed the glass container towards Shiro, knowing that the man would want the alcohol away from children and near his own mouth. The dude was a tired dad in every sense. "Anyways, they got really terrified, especially when I kept making remarks about Terran uses for each 'poison', so all the Galra rushed out the moment the alarm went off, and then Pidge shut the sentries down so I just packed up the box and brought it along. I thought we'd all enjoy some flavor in our food. I also wanted- no, I needed the spice. Spice is life."

Shiro sighed, and picked up the beaker of ethanol, plainly about to down the entire thing. He was prevented from doing so - and the others were prevented from asking their burning questions - by a high-pitched, very terrified voice.

"PUT THAT DOWN, NUMBER ONE! IT'S HIGHLY TOXIC!"

"WHY IS THERE A BOX OF POISONS ON THE TABLE? GET THEM PUT AWAY, QUICKLY!"

"NUMBER THREE, STEP AWAY FROM THEM, YOU'LL BE DEAD IN TICKS IF THOSE TOUCH YOU!"

"Woah, woah, guys, it's okay," Shiro attempted to calm the Alteans.

"IT IS VERY MUCH NOT OKAY! WHY DID YOU EVEN BRING THOSE ABOARD?"

"PUT THE BEAKER DOWN, NUMBER ONE! WE NEED YOU ALIVE! THINK OF YOUR CHILDREN!"

"QUIET!" the Black Paladin snapped, patience running out like a little kid runs out of Halloween candy. The aliens fell silent, staring in shock at the leader of Voltron. Said man held out the glass, tipped it slightly in a cheers that showed the liquid quite clearly, then swiftly pulled it to his lips and drank the entire thing in one go. Allura and Coran both gasped in terror, eyes comically wide as they could only gape at the human. Shiro finished the drink off with a satisfied exhale, his own eyes closing for a moment as he simply took in the moment.

"Well, you were right about it being weak. I don't think an entire barrel of that stuff could make me so much as dizzy. And princess, Coran, this stuff isn't poisonous. At least, the- uh... Lance, what's the stuff that's in what you had?"

"Bromelain, caffeine, capsaicin, dihydrogen monoxide, ethanol, and carbonation."

"Those aren't poisonous to humans. They're actually considered common foods and drinks on Earth. Once Pidge finishes scanning it all, Hunk'll probably include it in our meals. No offense to either of you, but your food is awful. It's so bland that I once licked a rock I found on a planet just because it was salty and took away from the horrible taste that goo left in my mouth."

"Oh, I remember that," Keith put in. "That's why we got those salt-licks from the Earth store at our last mall trip."

"You- how are you not dead?" Allura finally blurted out, face tinging blue.

"Ethanol, or alcohol as we humans call it, is a large part of human culture. It used to be safer to consume products with ethanol than it was to consume just water, so people gained higher tolerances to it. It still affects us, and we can still die, but if it's taken in moderation and you wait until your body is fully matured, the effects are extremely minimal. Even now that most people have access to clean water, alcohol consumption is a common recreational activity. That said, Lance, you better drink lots of water. However weak that stuff was, I don't want to risk anything." Lance nodded as Coran spoke up.

"You consume ethanol, a known poison, which is still considered toxic to humans, for fun?" A nod answered. "What about the C18H27NO3? And the C39H66N2O29? C8H10N4O2? H2O?"

"Translation?"

"Capsaicin, bromelain, caffeine, and water."

"Oh, well, capsaicin is a poison found in peppers and I think a few other plants. Humans use it as a seasoning, and depending on where each person is from and how they grew up, tolerance levels vary. For example, Lance can eat a pepper that burns your hands severely. His tolerance is really high, probably one of the highest I've heard of. He was famous at the Garrison for it. On the other hand, I can barely handle a jalapeno, which is a pretty mild in comparison. Scratch that, it is very mild when compared to a Carolina Reaper."

"Bromelain is known to be toxic as well. But for us humans, it usually only causes a tingling or itching in the mouth, occasionally mild reactions in our stomachs as well. Our saliva and stomach acids digest the bromelain before it digests us, and so many people enjoy consuming pineapple, which contains bromelain, as a snack. There's even this big, extremely long dispute about whether pineapple should be put on pizza or not. Personally, we all had that discussion, and have agreed to each their own."

"Caffeine is commonly found in coffee and some teas, and in many sodas, which are all beverages. Chocolate is a treat that also can contain caffeine, and it's eaten by basically everyone who isn't allergic. Caffeine has been known to have adverse effects on people, but it's much like ethanol: consume in moderation and it won't do as much harm. It's actually used to help people focus and become more aware of their surroundings. What I wouldn't give for a cup of coffee."

"Black?"

"Common misconception. I actually enjoy mochas."

"Nice, but have you tried a con panna?"

"I was going to but my plan was derailed by a certain Empire of purple aliens."

"We have to get coffee at the Earth store. Or maybe a poison store. I mean, if caffeine is poison, the odds are good it'll be there. Then, Kaltenecker and I are making you the best con panna ever." Allura cleared her throat to gain Shiro's attention once more.

"What about dihydrogen monoxide? How is that considered nontoxic?" All five humans exchanged amused looks, chuckles slipping out at the chaos they were about to unleash.

"Princess, dihydrogen monoxide covers 71% of our planet. Most weather revolves around it and humans are actually made up of 60% water, with our brains being about three-quarters of water. We need to consume dihydrogen monoxide to live. I think the only reason we didn't die from dehydration is because the Castle started producing water for us. Really glad, too. Dehydration is an awful way to go."

"Your water is dihydrogen monoxide?"

"What's your water?"

"We Alteans did not have water. It's only translated because of other races and their need for liquids. Coran and I gain most of our fluids from goo and hydration pouches."

"Okay, so what does dihydrogen monoxide do to most species?"

"Number One... think instant death."

"Can we put this aside for now?" Hunk called out. He was holding the spice in his hands, running his fingers like it was solid gold.

"What're planning on making?" And just like that, the Alteans and their dismay were left behind to discuss something else. Allura and Coran exchanged looks and swiftly left once again to the control room, pulling up their new log.

Humans are extremely resistant to toxins. Many chemicals in Terran foods and drinks are highly poisonous to most other races. A list of known poisons in Terran victuals is included below. Some of these are actually harmful to humans, yet they will still be consumed. Once again, a list is included of these chemicals. Important chemicals to remember for the care of humans are caffeine and ethanol. Caffeine can be used to bring a human into a more alert and focused state. Effectiveness is yet to be discovered, and the chemical should be given in extreme moderation until more data is collected. Ethanol is known to be harmful to Terrans, but is still used as a recreational drink. Sparingly give to humans, and only when they are stressed or somber. It is a rule that only fully matured humans are allowed to consume this beverage, given the harmful effects.

Dihydrogen monoxide covers a little under 3/4 of Earth's surface, and is necessary for the survival of humans. Under no circumstances is it to be kept away from a Terran who requests the substance. Terran weather usually includes dihydrogen monoxide, so caution is advised when visiting Earth. Until further information is gathered, avoiding visiting the planet at all would be prudent. Be warned that humans are 60% dihydrogen monoxide, so touching a human's skin or fluids would be very dangerous and should be prevented at all costs, especially if a being is unprotected and/or particularly susceptible to the substance. Humans will likely not realize they are covered in poison, so it is best if they are reminded each time they meet with a being from another race, until they remember on their own.

Data is still being collected about this species. Approach with caution.

#voltron #vld #oneshots #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #voltron oneshots #humans are weird oneshots

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goldkirk · 5 years ago

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Batfam in quarantine, pt. 1/??????

I want you to consider. it is quarantine and Bruce has to do work-from-home video meetings and tv interviews and every. single. one. of his adult children. are home and bored and have their hat on backwards and are ready to fuckin party.

—————

day 16:

scene: the grand staircase of Wayne Manor. cast: Dick, Jason, Cass, Tim, Duke, Damian, sprawled across various stairs and parts of the bannister, talking trash and too bored to think of anything else to do.

and so it begins. quietly, stealthily, in plain sight, right down the hall from Bruce Wayne, exhausted Batman and stressed-out CEO trying to keep an entire city afloat by night and day during a pandemic. The Fuckening.

Jason, as he hears his jumbo bouncy ball thunk away into oblivion after he misses an angle out of sheer laziness: guys.

Jason, sitting up now, glaring around at the others, meeting Cass’s eyes as she slowly grins at him, positively feral: aren’t you tired of being nice? don’t you just want to go ape shit????

slowly. warily. each kid rises. they lock eyes. their minds begin to merge into their personal Voltron, their deus ex machine, the infallible sibling psychic bond that comes out in times of greatest need, those moments when all stars align to spell out the simple, ancient message: ride or die, ya animals, it’s time to be a united front and stick it to the man. get in, losers, we’re going in cahoots.

“So,” Dick says, slowly, with a grin to match Cass’s. “About Dad.”

Somewhere, off in another part of the manor, Bruce Wayne sneezes.

—————

day 17: every single old Star Wars costume in the manor is dredged up and Tim, Jason, Dick, Cass, and Duke do a conga line through the background behind Bruce’s desk while he is absolutely determined to not react and everyone else on the call is like losing their shit but not sure if they can say something

day 23: it has become a challenge now, a war to get Bruce Batman to break the mask during work. the children have moved on to insect costumes and papier mâché

day 25: Bruce has prepared for so many scenarios now and the second his children drop out of the ceiling behind him today he switches on a new background

day 26: the trick no longer works, Tim and Dick hacked it and when Bruce hits the button his screen instead fills with Nyan Cat at full volume during a quarterly budget meeting

days 27-32: a new tiktok dance is performed every day. Bruce tries to schedule breaks, or just declare them outright, but his coworkers have spread the word like wildfire around the business world and since everyone agrees that it’s the only entertaining thing to happen since Dave’s toddler made him show off her Barbie in the middle of a marketing conference call, the majority of Bruce’s call-mates actively work to foil his plans as well

day 34: they are all dressed as Queen members and do a full dramatized rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody behind Bruce, including a particularly spectacular moment with a flamethrower and mild screaming. Bruce does not twitch. This was for a magazine interview. The reporter is drooling with glee, and the magazine sells more copies that month than in the last 7 combined

day 35: “don’t be suspicious” “don’t-don’t be suspicious!”. they have all found the most horrifically neon and loud-patterned clothings to wear, and Dick is straight up in the Discowing suit. Gotham Twitter won’t shut up about how awesome a replica it is, and Dick’s DMs are flooded for days with people begging to know where he bought it, what company, which Etsy seller, and he panics and tells someone he made it himself and doesn’t live down the resulting flurry of articles—Wayne Heir Richard Grayson, A Man of Many Talents: Acrobat, Debutante, Activist...and Seamstress? Vicki Vale Tells All—for WEEKS

(Cass lets Tim curl and tease and hairspray the hell out of her hair just for the Vine authenticity. and then refuses to let anyone but Jason touch it to help her carefully, gently, wash all of that back out and get her hair back to normal again afterwards with oodles of vanilla and sandalwood conditioner from his own stash)

day 37: they are all dressed as Green Lanterns. Confetti gets dumped on Bruce’s head “on accident”. Alfred sneaks ziploc baggies of Funfetti sugar cookies under each of their pillows before bed that night, and cheerfully hangs a framed screenshot of Bruce’s stoic, glitter-and-confetti-covered face from that moment on one of the few remaining empty spots on his room’s last wall, courtesy of Lucius Fox

day 40: they replicate the first of many scenes from Mama Mia, down to the synchronized dancing in too-large swim fins slapping loudly against the hardwood. Bruce is the closest they have ever gotten him to cracking. His mic is muted for ten solid minutes and he misses the best opportunity of the week to give one of the PR managers a hard time. It costs him deeply to have to keep his mouth shut, and it cost the PR manager twenty dollars, six Dilly Bars, and the promise to give the kids one (1) freebie Shenanigans-at-a-WE-event card this year to get to watch Bruce die inside with great satisfaction while they speak their piece without interruption for once in their goddamn life

#batfam #batfamily #batman #dc #bruce wayne’s kids are highly trained highly responsible beacons of chaos ans no i do not take constructive criticism at this time #them’s the facts

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ao3feed-klance · 5 years ago

Text

Act Natural...

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/2AKegZV

by Insomniac_with_dreams

“ I honestly did not expect that. Which is dumb you are literally trending on every social media plat form out there. Probably even Pinterest.” Keith frowned at them rolling his eyes. “You can’t trend on Pinterest.” he mumbled, digging his chopsticks savagely into his noodles. Pidge looked at him across the table over their glasses. “Pretty sure you can. You’re like internet famous.” Keith groaned and if it weren’t for the bird poop he would have thunked his head onto the table. “Yeah. For making one of the best known celebrities uncomfortable, and shitting all over the show's reputation. I literally have as big of an enemy base as Lance has a fan base. I’m going to get lynched.”

~or~ Keith messes up and the internet collectively hates him. While Lance pines after the boy with stupid shirts.

Words: 4939, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Allura (Voltron), Coran (Voltron), Curtis (Voltron)

Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)

Additional Tags: journalist keith, actor lance, they/them pronouns for Pidge, Keith likes to swear, Actually my first work with hardcore language, keith is so done, Lance is super lonely, and high key insecure, Keith (Voltron) is a Good Boyfriend, soft klance, Angst, Bullying, Cyber Bullying, interviews gone wrong, Everyone Hates Keith, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Mutual Pining, slow burn???

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/2AKegZV

#ao3feed #ao3feed klance

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klanced · 8 years ago

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someone (lance and hunk) instigates a team dance-off and it’s all fun and games until shiro tries to do the worm and ends up giving himself a bloody nose

#shitpost #shiro #voltron #i feel like this has happened to me... could be wrong #shiro: guys i've got this (THUNK)#narrator: he did not have this #katiecanons #i spose

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justheretobreakthings · 6 years ago

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Remember Me - Chapter 19

(First Chapter) (Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

Word Count: 4,353 (Total Word Count: 75,456) Read on AO3

Story Summary:

It was strange enough for the paladins of Voltron to have found another human this far from home, locked in a Galra prison. But it was stranger still when this human insisted that he knew them, and even that he was the former red paladin of Voltron.

That couldn’t possibly be true, could it? After all, if this Keith was actually a part of the Voltron team, then why does nobody remember him?

Chapter Preview:

Lance laughed. “So, have you just been spying on all of us this whole dinner?”

“No,” Shiro said. “I’ve been people-watching. Much more socially acceptable.”

“Uh-huh.”

Shiro shrugged. “What can I say. Feel like it’s kinda my job to keep an eye on the lot of you. Someone has to make sure you kids keep yourselves out of trouble.” He suddenly frowned, squinting across the room. “Speaking of which…”

Lance followed his gaze and spotted Keith walking alongside one of the serving tables. Or, staggering, more like. He was moving slowly, hands on the edge of the table, taking awkward, lurching steps. “Oh God,” Lance said, rolling his eyes. “You know, I had a feeling Mullet wasn’t the sort of guy who could hold his liquor.”

“How are you liking the nunvill, Number Three?”

Lance spun around to face Coran at the sound of his voice, then his eyes darted between the cup in his hand and the royal advisor’s expectant face. “Wait, this is nunvill?!” he said, incredulous. “It doesn’t taste a thing like it did last time!”

“Yes, it seems human taste buds aren’t well suited to appreciating nunvill’s intense flavor,” Coran said. “More’s the pity. However, the buoying qualities of the beverage are really too good for you paladins to have to miss out on, so I recruited Hunk and Shiro as taste testers to figure out a fruit juice blend that would be more, ah, palatable to you humans. Thought I’d debut it here. It’s always good party etiquette for the guest to bring along a dish or beverage for the host to serve. Keep that in mind.”

“Well, you did a good job. I can barely taste it. What is this, like, five percent alcohol?”

“One percent nunvill, although I don’t know how that compares in strength to your ‘alcohols’ on Earth. Considering that a single glass of nunvill can effectively de-rust an average-sized ion cannon…”

“Yeah, no, that’s - that’s strong,” Lance said. “I’ll try and be careful with it.”

“Good lad,” said Coran with a satisfied nod. “It’s nice that some of my efforts aren’t going to waste today.”

Lance grimaced. “Coran, you’re not too upset about us not doing the air show, are you?”

“No, no, of course not!” Coran said with a laugh. “It simply wouldn’t make sense to do the show anymore after that battle with the Holvarthans.”

“Oh, good. I was worried that you’d be - ”

“And sure, I may have poured my heart into that choreography to put on as elegant a show as possible, and spent a full day working on those new additions. And do I enjoy getting to play the roles of director and narrator and producer and everything I could have been if a career in show business had ever taken off for me? Of course I do! But upset? Bah! I’m not upset! Not at all, my boy, not at all!” He looked down at his own cup of nunvill-juice. “You know, I think I preferred the stronger stuff…”

He sighed and left without a goodbye, leaving Lance shaking his head to himself. And he’d thought Pidge could be passive-aggressive. Clearly, she’d been bested by a new master.

His eyes roved around the room, eyes out for his fellow paladins. Most everyone in the room was engaged in conversation; the Thotirnians were talkative people on the whole, it seemed, and they moved about the room easily to dart between conversation partners, the gangly limbs on their reptilian bodies that seemed to contain triple the number of joints as humans no doubt helping in the endeavor. The banquet hall, too, seemed to have been arranged for optimum sociability. The dinner was served buffet-style, but with the dishes scattered across different tables all over the hall rather than on one long serving station. There weren’t many tables for actually eating, and only enough chairs to seat about a third of the occupants in the hall. The majority Thotirnians apparently preferred to eat while standing and walking about.

Fortunately all the dishes served were basically finger food, Lance noted as he turned to a table refill his plate with a particularly sweet dish that resembled half-sized spring rolls in appearance. His focus at this party had been more the food than the people. The scaly, oblong-faced Thotirnians weren’t particularly appealing to flirt with, and their culture seemed perfectly okay with interrupting speakers in conversation and cutting each other off, making story-telling difficult.

They were honestly just a bit exhausting. The introverted Pidge must have been getting irritable by this point, and even Shiro got worn out by chatter at times. And Keith…

Well, Lance actually hadn’t paid much attention to Keith’s whereabouts during this whole gathering. The mullet wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. A social pill bug, perhaps. Deciding to check and make sure Voltron’s guest hadn’t gone and imploded from oversocialization, Lance started weaving through the crowd, keeping his eyes peeled for the silvery armor.

He spotted Keith after a few minutes, standing near one of the few empty tables that was available for dining rather than serving food, leaning awkwardly against a chair as if he wasn’t sure what to do with his legs. He was in the middle of a talk with three Thotirnians, and judging by his expression, whatever they were discussing wasn’t Keith’s preferred topic. Lance casually sauntered over to listen in.

“So would that make you some sort of soldier for the Voltron alliance?” one of the Thotirnians, the tallest of the three, was asking. “Are you a conscript?”

“No, that’s not - I do more than just help out in battles,” Keith said. “I mean, I’m living in the castle and - ”

“You are a tenant?”

“No, no, I - it’s not like I’m paying them rent or - look, I’m an ally, but, like, a close ally. I live with the paladins and I do my part in the battles and around the castle and - and stuff like that.”

The Thotirnians were quiet a moment, expressions pensive, before realization crossed the face of one of them and he spoke up: “Ah, so you are a servant.”

“Oh my god,” Keith muttered, closing his eyes and lifting his cup to his lips to drink.

“What are we talking about over here?” Lance asked, moving in so he was standing right at Keith’s side.

The tallest Thotirnian gestured with a wave of his hand toward Keith. “We were simply inquiring as to this one’s relationship to Voltron. He is obviously not a paladin, you see, nor a soldier from any military we were aware of, and yet he flew with your team in battle.”

“Ah, well,” Lance said with a shrug. “Let’s just say our relationship with ol’ Keithy here is ‘complicated’ and leave it at that. Right, Keith?” Keith grimaced and took another gulp of his drink.

The Thotirnian nodded solemnly. “Understandable. It must be a strange transition, putting a Galra into your servitude, but - ”

He was interrupted by the sound of a spluttering cough as Keith choked on his drink. Lance thumped him on the back, and Keith managed a couple of gasping breaths before asking in a strangled voice, “How - how did you know I’m Galra?”

“Well, your smell,” the Thotirnian said, a hint of annoyance in his tone as if he were explaining something patently obvious. “It is fainter than most Galra, but it’s there. And your blood is not as warm as that of the paladins.”

“How can you tell - ?”

“I can see it quite clearly.”

“And your eyes,” one of the other Thotirnians added. “Those irises - I have only ever seen the color on Galra, haven’t you?” The other two nodded in agreement.

“Yes, they are quite frightening,” the first one said.

“All right, cool,” Lance said, before clearing his throat. “Hey, have you three heard about how the flux capacitors on the Lions work? It’s super cool, you should go ask the green or yellow paladin about it. They’d love to share some of the gritty details.”

“Really?” said the Thotirnian, brow raised - or, the ridge over his eyes angled in such a way that a brow would be raised if one was there. “It sounds interesting. Thank you, we will search them out.”

The Thotirnians left, and with a sigh, Keith collapsed into a nearby chair and ran a hand over his face. “Thanks for that,” he muttered.

“No problem,” Lance said with a shrug. “I’m kinda guessing parties aren’t really your scene, huh?”

“I had been getting better at them,” Keith sighed. He took another swig from his drink and then set the empty cup down with a thunk. “It’s easier when I actually know what I’m doing at them. I - I thought maybe coming to this thing with you guys was gonna feel a bit like old times…” He brought his index finger up to idly brush around the rim of his cup. “Guess that’s not really a possibility anymore. I gotta get another drink.”

“You haven’t been drinking too much of that stuff, have you?” Lance asked. “It’s weak, but it’s still nunvill. So, you know, space alcohol.”

“I can handle alcohol,” Keith said, rolling his eyes.

Lance snorted. “Oh, please. You can’t even handle milk.”

“That’s not even - whatever,” Keith said. He stood up from the table. “I’m drinking, and I’ve been drinking. Only way I’m getting through this party. You can go ask Pidge about her flux component, leave me be.”

“Flux capacitor,” Lance corrected. “And they’re not real. Did you really not - dude, that was a Back to the Future reference, don’t you…?” He shook his head in exasperation at Keith’s blank stare. “Wow, man. Whatever, I guess. Enjoy your drinks.”

“I will.” With a languid wave of his hand Keith left, and Lance resumed his wandering. He eventually found himself near Allura and stuck around for a while to listen in as she fielded questions from curious Thotirnians about the other planets in the alliance. He even helped answer a couple himself, to give Allura’s voice a break, although there weren’t many he could. He resolved to start making an effort to pay better attention during meetings - a resolution that he had already made a dozen times over in the past and never stuck to, but this time surely he could follow it through.

Eventually he grew bored, though, so he politely ducked out of the group and scanned the crowd for the other paladins. Shiro was the first he spotted, by himself, leaning against a wall with a drink in his hand, eyes roving about the room.

“Having a good time?” Lance asked as he approached.

“Perfectly mediocre,” Shiro replied.

“Ah, well.” Lance leaned against the wall next to him. “At least the food’s good.”

“That’s true. I think I’ve seen Hunk go to every table in this place at least twice. And you see how Pidge is carrying her helmet around two-handed like that?” He pointed across the crowd, and Lance followed his finger to peer at her. “She stole a bunch of those rolls with the jam fillings and hid them in her helmet. Guess she wanted to take them back for later. She really thinks she’s being subtle.”

Lance laughed. “So, have you just been spying on all of us this whole dinner?”

“No,” Shiro said. “I’ve been people-watching. Much more socially acceptable.”

“Uh-huh.”

Shiro sighed and pulled himself away from the wall, setting off toward Keith, and Lance decided to follow. When they reached him, he had just made it across the whole table and had stepped away from it, arms out slightly at his side to steady himself. “Hey, bud,” Shiro said, reaching out a hand to take Keith’s arm. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m great,” Keith said, flashing him a smile. It was clear instantly just how flushed his face was, and his eyes seemed to take a second to locate Shiro’s face before slurring, “This is - ‘s a good party, Sh’ro. Everyone’s fun.”

Shiro raised a brow. “Huh. Keith, how much have you had to drink tonight?”

“I dunno,” Keith answered. “I had - hmm. There was a cup…” He frowned. “I d’nno what happened to that.”

“Damn, he’s really gone,” Lance said. “He wasn’t like this earlier.”

“How much earlier we talking?” Shiro asked.

“A while? Not sure. He, uh, he said he’s gotta drink a bit to get through the party, and some of the Thoti-, um, the Thor-, the alien dudes, they were giving him a little bit of a hard time, so…”

Shiro frowned and looked to Keith, who didn’t seem to have been listening and was instead staring in wonder at the ceiling. “Keith, are you having a tough time at this dinner?”

“Mmmmm, yeah,” Keith said. “S’okay, though. The juice is good. Shiro, ‘ve you tried the juice? Ya gotta try it, Shirooooo…”

“All right,” Shiro said. “I’m taking him back to the castle.” He threw an arm around Keith’s shoulders, and Keith leaned into it instantly, eyes lidding sleepily. “Lance, could you let Allura know where we went?”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” said Lance.

“Well, Keith doesn’t seem to be in any state to be up and about, and he definitely can’t get back to the castle on his own. I have to leave.”

Lance paused, gaze flicking between Shiro and Keith, the former’s arm securely around the latter to steady him as he slumped comfortably into his grip. “Hey, um, I can take him.”

“Thanks, Lance, but you don’t have to - ”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Lance insisted. He slipped his own arm around Keith’s back to tug him away from Shiro. “You’re the Black Paladin, you should really stick around ‘til this thing’s wrapped up. And I’m feeling pretty sleepy, been wanting to head back anyway.” He yawned for emphasis, and beside him, Keith yawned too.

Shiro hesitated, frown deepening, but finally he nodded. “All right,” he said slowly. “Just put him in his bedroom and try to make sure he doesn’t make a mess or fall on his face or anything.”

“Will do, Shiro,” Lance said, giving him a thumbs-up before turning away and dragging Keith beside him. “Come on, you idiot, let’s get you back.”

“‘Kay,” Keith said, falling into step obligingly, and already Lance decided that drunk Keith was leagues better to deal with than migraine-y Keith. Drunk Keith didn’t need to make it a point to be stubborn for the sake of stubbornness.

It turned out, though, that drunk Keith was just as unsteady on his feet as migraine-y Keith, and as they walked back toward the castle under the darkening sky, it became increasingly obvious just how much of a lightweight Keith was. At one point, he mumbled something incoherent, knocked his head onto Lance’s paultron with an audible thunk, and closed his eyes, apparently trying to go to sleep on his feet right then and there.

It would have been hilarious if it didn’t have to come with muscle strain on Lance’s part, he mused as he shook Keith off of him and set them moving again.

The walk back to the castle was slow and unsteady, but they made it with Keith still on his feet, and that was the important part. Keith lolled his head back and watched the lights along the ceiling pass by as Lance steered him to his living quarters. “Hey, hey Lance,” Keith said, too loudly for the silent and empty halls of the castle.

“I can hear you, man, you don’t need to shout,” Lance replied.

Keith continued in the exact same volume. “Th’s castle - it’s so big. Y’ever think about that?”

“Uh, I don’t really think about it. But, yeah, it’s big. Good on you for noticing.” He turned down the hallway that housed Keith’s room. “Nearly there, buddy.”

“It’s too big,” Keith said, expression falling to a frown. “Too big. Things… things’ll get lost…”

“I’m sure they do.” Lance opened the door and led the two of them in. “All right, we’re home. Bedtime.”

“Yep,” said Keith. He pulled away from Lance and simply tilted backward onto the bed, flopping onto it face-up right along the head of the bed on top of the pillow. “Bedtime.”

“Okay, dude, if you sleep in full armor you’re gonna be sore as hell come morning.”

“Mm. Tha’s smart,” Keith slurred. He pulled himself back up into a sitting position and gazed silently down at his vambrace for a few ticks before reaching out a hand to fumble uselessly at it. “I can’t get ‘t off,” he declared.

Lance sighed. “God, you’re like damn a toddler when you’re drunk, aren’t you? Remind us never to let you drink at a party again.”

“Okay,” Keith said, obligingly holding out his arm for Lance to remove the vambrace, then move on to the rest of the armor. “Thanks,” he added after a bit, drawing out the ‘s’ in a hiss.

“Whatever,” said Lance. He set the vambraces and gauntlets aside and moved to the breastplate. “I’d really hate to see this armor get covered in vomit tomorrow morning when you wake up with a hangover. Which is definitely going to happen, Mister Lightweight.”

Keith just hummed appreciatively, swaying a little where he sat until Lance grabbed him by the shoulders to hold him still. “‘S nice armor,” Keith agreed. “Liked my old armor better, though.”

“Yeah, your old armor,” Lance muttered, lifting the breastplate off of him. “Stick your legs out a bit, will you?”

Keith obliged, and he let out a small burp before continuing. “It was the red armor. Allura says I di’n’t wear it, but… I dunno… feels right. I like red.”

“Mm-hm,” Lance hummed, pulling the greave off of his right ankle.

“Heh,” said Keith. “I said ‘I like red’ because - b’cause, like, the color. But I like Red, too. Th’lion. She’s a good lion.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lance straightened up, tossing the last of the armor aside. “Okay, so, I guess you’re gonna have to sleep in your undersuit tonight. Because I am definitely not gonna change you into your pajamas. I think we’ll both rest easier forever if this is the most I ever strip you, yeah?”

“Yeah…” Keith agreed softly. He turned and stared down at the armor, his brow creasing.

After a few seconds of the silent staring, Lance tilted his head. “Uh, Mullet? You all right there?”

Keith turned back to Lance. His face still flush as it had been this whole, but now with the addition of a dewiness in the eyes that took Lance by surprised. “Lance?” Keith said in practically a whisper. “I miss it.”

“Um,” Lance said slowly. “What - what do you miss?”

“Bein’ a paladin,” Keith answered. “I miss - I miss Red.”

Lance let out a slow exhale. “Yeah, I know you do. We’ve been over this, man, I know it’s no fun for you and all, but you - ”

Keith suddenly let out a loud, strangled sound before leaning to the side, his expression crumbling as he flopped against the wall at the head of the bed. “I miss Shiro,” he croaked.

“Um.” Lance cleared his throat and shifted his stance awkward. “Do you, uh, do you want me to go back and get him, or - ?”

“No!” Keith snapped, face immediately falling to a scowl. “No, no, no, no, not - I miss my Shiro.”

“What do you mean, your Shiro?”

“My Shiro. The one from - the one I r’ember…” His chin trembled and he let out another strangled whine before burying his face in his hands. “This one, he’s nice, an’ he’s good, but… but he’s not m’brother. He doesn’ remember… he was the first - the first family tha’ I had in sooooo long, and - an’ now i’s all gone…” He lowered his hands and stared at them, curling and uncurling his fingers against his palm. “It’s all gone…” he whispered.

Lance lowered himself cautiously onto the bed, staring at Keith’s face, where the tears had started flowing. This was… not good. He wouldn’t have offered to take Keith back to the castle on his own if he had known that he was going to end up like this.

He had dealt with drunk people before. Once someone had spiked the punch at a party he and Hunk had attended during their Garrison days, and Lance had wound up having to babysit his friend for the rest of the night. But drunk Hunk had simply found everything hilarious. And Coran had once vastly underestimated both the strength of the beverages on one of the planets they had once visited and his own tolerance level, but drunk Coran had simply become an even more loud, talkative, and flirty version of himself.

Giggly drunk, he could handle. Bold drunk, he could handle. Weepy drunk, though?

He lifted a hand to awkwardly pat Keith’s back. “Uh… there there?” Keith didn’t even seem to notice, just began mumbling something under his breath. “Keith?” Lance said. “I, uh, I didn’t catch that, what’d you say?”

Keith turned his head, blinking blearily as his eyes slowly met Lance’s. “It just keeps happ’n’n, Lance,” he whispered. “Every time I try… just all goes away… ” He let out a hitched sob and buried his face back into his hands. “‘S my fault,” he said, voice muffled through his fingers.

“What’s your fault?”

“I left,” Keith said. “I left, ‘cause I was gettin’ it all wrong... messed it all up - tha’s what happens, Lance, I ge’ there, I mess ‘t up, an’ then I have t’ go… but I really really tried, Lance, I tried an’ I thought - I was doin’ it, I w’s doing good, and we were all friends, but then - b’t then - but then it was bad again, and I had to go - had to go - had to - I still tried, I tried with the Ba-… with the - the Bade - the Blades, but then it all just… poof.” He let out a sigh, his shoulders shaking. “All gone,” he finished off in a whisper so tiny Lance barely picked up on it.

He listed to the side, letting his eyes drift close, before softly adding, “It hurts. Hurts so much…”

Lance took a deep, uncertain breath. “Right. Um. I’m not - I’m not sure I followed all of that but - but, um - ” Good God, he was definitely not the person who should be doing this. He could give a pep talk with the best of them, but that was only when he knew his audience. He knew all the buttons to press to get Hunk smiling again, and how to bolster Allura’s strength when she needed it. But Keith - Keith was a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a mullet. He had no clue what Keith needed to hear, or wanted to hear. Or even whether he was so drunk that he wouldn’t even gauge any meaning out of anything Lance did say.

He regretted not letting Keith just fall asleep on their walk back to the castle. Would have made things much easier.

For now, he just needed to get Keith to settle down. Get him to stop crying, and get some rest. Then, by morning, surely he will have forgotten all about all this shit on his mind. Or, at least, he would be sobered up and be able to discuss it in some way that made a lick of sense, and hopefully with someone who actually had some idea how to handle it.

Cautiously he stood up from the bed. “Hey, uh, look, Keith,” he said slowly. “I’m, uh - I’m sure that, whatever it is you’re on about, it - it wasn’t your fault.”

“Was,” Keith said softly.

“Well, um, okay, even if it was, that’s - that’s over now. You have to remember, of course, none of that - any bad stuff you remember, it didn’t really happen, right? So, you know. You don’t even need to worry about it!” Keith’s lower lip began trembling hard, new tears starting to pour from his eyes. Okay, shit, Lance thought. Not the strategy to go with. “I mean - I mean, just the - just the bad parts. The parts about, uh, messing up and stuff? Those were - that part’s fake. But, um, I’m sure the rest of it is… that’s real?”

He examined Keith’s expression intently, trying to gauge how Keith was taking it. It didn’t exactly feel good to lie to him - in fact his stomach was turning more leaden every passing second - but the guy was three sheets to the wind; it wasn’t like any lie Lance told now was going to stick. And if being told that, yes, sure, his memories were real, if that was what Keith needed right now to stop crying, so be it.

“My team?” Keith asked quietly. “They’re real? … They know me?”

“Yeah, man, ‘course they do.”

“Where are they?”

“Uh…” Lance cleared his throat. “Tell you what, how about - how about I leave and go get them?”

“You’ll… where’re they?”

“They’re kind of a ways away, but I can go get them for you. But it’ll be a little while, see, so - so in the meantime you need to stop crying and get some rest.”

“Get some rest…”

“Yeah. And then by the time you wake up, they’ll be here, and everything will be great. Sound good?”

Keith seemed to mull it over for a few seconds, then he gave Lance a woozy smile. “Thank you,” he said.

“No problem,” said Lance. “So, you just get some sleep, and I’m gonna - I’m gonna leave.”

“Yeah…”

“Good night, Keith.”

Lance turned to leave, and made it across the room and had his hand on the door before Keith cried, “Wait! Lance!”

Lance whipped back around, to see Keith suddenly wide-eyed, urgency written across his face. “What is it?” he asked.

“I gotta - I gotta tell you - ” said Keith. “It’s important.”

Lance hurried back toward him. “What? What’s wrong?”

Keith placed his hands firmly on Lance’s shoulders to look him squarely in the eye. And with an amount of solemnity and directness that surely shouldn’t even have been possible in his drunkenness, he announced, “I am going to throw up.”

Then, to Lance’s dismay, he turned around, leaned over, and did just that.

#vldgen #voltron fic #vld fic #keith #lance #my writing #fic: remember me

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stuffandnosense · 6 years ago

Text

Back To You - Chpt 3

Chpt 1 | Chpt 2

A continuation of a Plangst prompt fill from @hailqiqi that got out of hand. Ooops.

Description: Post A/L breakup after season 7, Pidge and Lance are JUST starting to, maybe, figure something out. But then a mission gone wrong leaves Pidge unable to feel emotions, unable to act on the feelings they were barely sure they had, and the condition may or may not be permanent.

Now

Emotional hangover headaches are definitely a thing. Lance wakes the next morning with the worst one he’s had in a long time.

He feels cold and clammy as he stumbles out of bed and into the small shower down the hall, and he groans quietly to himself when a soft beeping from a panel in the stall tells him his time is up. The Atlas can only carry so much water, after all. It may have turned out to be somewhat magical itself, but it’s not the same as the castle. She has her limits.

The water cuts off, and Lance lets his head thunk against metal wall, trying to figure out if the last day or two really happened.

When he returns to his room he’s tempted to crawl back into bed now that he’s clean; it seems to take too much energy just to get his uniform on. At least it’s not that awful orange anymore.

It feels like dragging his feet to make it to the cafeteria though, and no one he really knows is there. It’s an odd time; too late for breakfast for most of the crew, and he should have been up far earlier. He wonders why no one woke him. Technically they have shifts, duties...his should have started two vargas ago and he hasn’t heard a word. Maybe they’re leaving him alone on purpose. It’s all a little more loose for the paladins anyway.

Well...fine. Lance chokes down a few bites before his throat refuses to swallow anymore.

But what now? They won’t reach the next planet for a couple of days, and...he can’t do anything else. He can’t help Pidge. He can’t...think.

He should find her, though. He doesn’t want her to look back if--when--they find a way to cure her, and think he didn’t care enough to be there for her. He does want to, it just…

His chest aches, but he tells himself to ignore it.

Pidge isn’t in her lab when he looks for her, which doesn’t make sense after yesterday. She seemed so focused on work. He checks the infirmary, Sam’s lab, her quarters--even the bridge, where Shiro gives him one of those concerned looks--but no Pidge.

He doesn’t expect to find her, finally, in the lion hangar, staring up at Green. She doesn’t look troubled, of course she doesn’t, but something still feels odd as he approaches.

“Pidge…?”

Lance stops a few feet shy of her when he realizes what it is.

Pidge is standing right here, but Green’s barrier is still up.

“Pidge?” he asks again. He can hear the urgency in his voice, but she doesn’t react to it. She doesn’t look his way, either.

“Green isn’t responding to me,” she says. “I suppose I should have expected it; after all, even though she is a more logical personality, the bonds with the lions are still very emotional in nature. And my side of that equation isn’t possible right now.”

Lance swallows. “I-it’s okay. We’ll figure out how to fix this. You’ll be back in your lion in no time.”

Pidge shrugs. “There’s no need to make promises you may not be able to keep, Lance.”

“I’m not—I mean…”

“It’s all right, it’s habit for you. You try to reassure people. There’s merit in it at times, certainly, but I don’t need it. Not now, anyway.”

Lance blinks. She did that yesterday—throwing out an overarching observation about him like that. Like they were things she thought about all the time, but never said. Not until now, without emotions like timidity or embarrassment to keep her from just saying them.

It doesn’t escape him that even now, she’d framed them as good things--or not bad things, anyway. Both times. But why would she have been thinking about them before? Why did those things matter to her?

But...if he really tries to think about why, it’s only going to hurt more. He knows it will. Best to save that until Pidge is herself again.

He closes the distance between them to place a tentative hand on her shoulder. She looks at him, finally, when he does it, but where the Pidge he knew from two days ago would surely have been upset about not being able to reach her lion...there’s nothing now. And he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to that. He hopes more than anything he won’t have to.

“You don’t mind if I say stuff like that anyway, do you? It may not do anything for you right now, but, you know...it still helps the rest of us.”

Pidge doesn’t bat an eye. “Of course.”

“Thanks…” He lets his hand drop back to his side. “Pidge, you…? You do want us to fix it, right?”

She raises an eyebrow at him, and if he didn’t feel like his stomach was in a meat grinder he might enjoy how cute she looks doing it. It’s very Spock.

But even Spock actually had emotions under there somewhere.

“I don’t have a personal preference,” she tells him. “On one hand, even with less than twenty-four hours of data to draw from I can estimate staying with way would leave me personally more efficient, but on the other I’m aware it wouldn’t be ideal for the team. All of you will be far too focused on the issue to be as efficient as you could be in other areas until this is resolved.”

Lance smirks, but he’s pretty sure it comes out tired. “Are you accusing us of being unprofessional?”

“No. Merely human.”

“I see…”

“In any case, the situation is certainly not ideal now that it seems it might be necessary to find a new paladin before forming Voltron would be possible again.”

“We won’t have to do that,” Lance says quickly.

“I know it would be preferable not to have to go to the trouble.”

Lance opens his mouth again to tell her that isn’t why he’s so adamant at all, but he thinks a part of her knows. She may not be feeling emotions herself, but either she’s always been good at analyzing the rest of them and she’s only now able to voice those observations, or not having her own emotions in the way has made her even better at it.

Or both.

“Anyway,” he sighs. “So if we find a way, you’ll let us try?”

“Yes.”

***

“Lance, are you sure about this?” Veronica asks again.

“Does it necessarily have to be you?” Sam questions. “I’d be happy to let Allura rummage around in my brain, too.”

Veronica crosses her arms tightly over her chest. “Or mine.”

Allura settles beside Lance on the edge of the infirmary bed he’s perched on. “As much as I appreciate your offers, your brains are older and fully developed. Lance and Hunk are really the only two humans on board young enough to have brains that are still developing the way Pidge’s should be. If I’m going to gain an understanding of what a human brain in later adolescence should feel like, and how it should operate, it has to be one of them, I’m afraid.”

Sam sighs. “I know that. I should know that.” His eyes close briefly, and Lance reaches out to touch his sleeve.

“It’ll be fine,” he says, both to Sam and his sister. “I trust Allura.”

But Allura ia already making a face when he turns back to her.

“What?”

“You...you should be sure, Lance. This may not be...easy. This is so much more complicated than transferring a consciousness from a lion that was willing to help me to an unconscious body, or relatively simple physical healing or energy manipulation in comparison. This is testing the limits of what I learned in Oriande, if it is even possible.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Allura.”

“...I might.”

He swallows and takes her hands. He knew that. She’d already tried to warn him once, when she asked that they do this here just in case. A doctor is standing by.

“That’s okay too. We have to do this. It isn’t even a question for me.”

“Lance,” Veronica says sharply. He already knew this was dangerous but she didn’t; not until now. He hadn’t wanted to give her the opportunity to try to talk him out of it any sooner.

“It’s my decision, okay?”

“What about the rest of your team? What do they think?”

Lance smiles a little. “Where do you think they are? They’re keeping Pidge distracted.” Hunk even tried to offer to do it himself, but Lance wasn’t having any of it.

After leaving the hangar this morning he came straight to Allura to see how she doing on a plan. It looked like she and Coran had been up all night trying to decide the best course of action. That was when she told him she needed his help.

“Of course,” he told her then. “Anything you need. Just get some rest first?”

Veronica seems to understand now, but she’s still grumbling. “I just don’t like to see you put yourself in danger.”

She went there. Of course she did. Lance sees the opportunity and takes it. “That’s very sweet, but knock it off.”

She snorts. “Fine. Guess I walked right into that one.”

“You really did. Anyway...I’m ready if you are, Allura.”

She lets out a breath. “I am as ready as I can be.”

They turn to face each other on the edge of the infirmary bed, and Allura places her hands on either side of his face, fingertips at his temples. When she closes her eyes Lance does too. It doesn’t really matter, he supposes, but it seems like the right thing to do. Maybe he should be trying to...focus, or whatever. Help. Somehow.

He can feel the warmth of Allura’s energy on his skin; the blue glow seeps through his eyelids. He wonders if this is what he would have felt if he’d been awake when she used her alchemy to save him before.

But he only wonders for a moment. He doesn’t like to dwell on that day.

Allura’s fingers shift against his face. “Lance...it’s all right. I need you to relax your mind, if you can.”

He frowns, eyes still closed. “What do you mean? I thought I was?”

“You...hmm. You may not be conscious of it. But we can come back to that; I have the physical aspects of your brain to familiarize myself with first.”

“Okay…”

Lance opens his eyes briefly to see Allura’s still closed--her brow furrowed in that way she has when she concentrates. Not unlike the way Pidge looks when she does. Something in his chest warms and…

How can he love both of them so much? When did that even happen? And when did the differences...change? A year ago, sitting this close to Allura, watching her face like this...even two months ago...he would have been blushing. Or something. Now all he wants is to protect her. He wants her to be happy.

The feelings for Allura, he’s beginning to realize, have become no different, really, than what he feels for Veronica, or Rachel. Maybe they were different once, but it doesn’t matter now. He wouldn’t trade the friendship he has with Allura now for anything.

Veronica tilts her head at him when he glances at her.

What? he mouths. She just shrugs. He’ll ask her later.

Lance turns back to Allura, all of them quiet as she focuses, and for a while there is comfortable silence. A faint ache pushes into Lance’s head, radiating from his temples, but surely that’s expected with someone probing around in his brain with strong energy. He can almost feel it--like tingling fingers exploring the inside of his head. Taking in how his synapses are put together.

“Are you all right?” Allura asks.

“Yeah, it’s just kind of...weird, I guess.”

“I suppose it is; you may be experiencing some discomfort, but please tell me immediately if it gets any worse. I don’t want to harm you.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

But the dull ache is all there is. No worse than the headache he woke up with this morning, really.

Until it is.

Allura warns him. She lets him know she has enough information about his brain physically--that she’s going to try to enter his mind again. She warned him before, too. When she first asked for his help.

“It may be...awkward. For us. Just...due to recent events. Perhaps I should ask Hunk.”

“He’d do it, but no, it’s okay, really; I want to do this, Allura.”

Lance thinks he’s ready for that. He thinks he’s ready to open his mind her. He wants to, but he can feel her running into a wall he never meant to put up anyway.

And it hurts.

He hears himself shouting. Allura gasps and starts to withdraw but he catches her wrists and holds her hands where they are on his head.

“N-No, what are you doing! Keep going!”

“Lance, I am hurting you; your mind is reacting to the intrusion.”

“So tell it to shut up,” he gasps. “Or...or something.”

“Lance…!” Veronica’s voice. He ignores it. A hand is at his back now; maybe Sam?

“Allura, y-you have find a way around this or you can’t help Pidge; what if her mind does the same thing? Please...come...come on...just…” It’s hard to pry his eyes open again, but he has to look at her. Hers are open now. Alarmed. He has to let her know it’s okay. “Please.”

Allura swallows, but she adjusts her grip and leans in again.

Lance lets his hands fall, and someone takes one of them. Veronica. He doesn’t having any qualms with squeezing hers as his head screams at him. His chest heaves and he knows there are tears on his face, but it doesn’t matter. He can do this. He has to do this…

I’m so sorry, Lance, are you all right? Allura’s voice, as the pain finally begins to fade. But she isn’t speaking aloud.

I...I guess so? Are you in my head now? The feeling of an affirmative answers him more than words. What happened?

It’s difficult to explain. I’m sorry I hurt you.

This is worth it. Besides...it wasn’t really you hurting me, was it?

In a sense, no...but in any case. I can bypass a response like that in future, I think. With anyone.

Good.

I still need to get a feel for a human emotional landscape, but perhaps we should wait. You should rest. And we should examine you to be sure no damage was done.

Lance frowns. But I’m okay…

Please? For me, Lance. Let’s be certain.

He sighs aloud. “Okay.”

Allura withdraws her hands, and when he opens his eyes the pain has faded to a harsh ache. He sways, dizzy, and the hand at his back moves in around his shoulder.

“You okay, son?”

Lance clears his throat. “I um...yeah, Sam, thanks. I just…” He swipes at his face to dry the tears and realizes his hands are trembling. He scowls at them, and Veronica is already calling for the doctor, but in the end they don’t find anything wrong. Not really.

“I told you I was fine,” he tells Allura. He’s trying to tease--to make her feel better--but the smile she gives him in return is weak.

“I’d still like to keep you tonight,” the doctor cuts in. “You’re still in some pain, and we’re not sure why; it would be better to keep an eye on you.”

“It’s just a headache,” Lance grumbles.

“That you got from letting your alien friend mess around in your brain,” Veronica retorts.

“Hey, this is not Allura’s fault—”

“I didn’t say it was; I’m just stating facts…”

Allura squeezes his shoulder. “The doctor is right, Lance; it would be better to be sure. I would feel better if you stayed. I’ll stay with you, if you like.”

Lance chuckles quietly. “That’s okay. I mean you can if you want to, but it’s fine; I’ll stay.”

***

A new weight on the edge of the bed rouses Lance from sleep, waking him in the kind of sudden way that makes him sit up with a gasp. His head pounds out its protest, but at least it doesn’t hurt as much as it did before the doctor had to give him a sedative to help him actually get to sleep.

A small figure shifts in the dimness of the infirmary. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Lance rubs at his temples, wincing. “Pidge? What are you doing here?” When he finds a clock in the dark, he realizes it’s the middle of the night. “It’s late.”

“Hunk finally told me what you’d been doing--where you disappeared to. What you were doing you were doing for my benefit, so it seemed customary to check on you.”

He snorts quietly. “In the middle of the night?”

“I was working.”

“Yeah, well...thanks. I guess.” He can’t find it in himself to frustrated with her.

“It wasn’t necessary to put yourself in danger.”

“Now you sound like Veronica.”

Pidge just blinks at him. “It isn’t reasonable to risk having two paladins out of commission when one is already unable to fly.”

Lance let out a quiet breath and leans forward. “In this case, it is to me,” he answers. “You need to know that.”

“Why?”

“Because I hope you’ll remember that when you’re back to normal.”

“I meant why is it reasonable to you?”

“I…” Lance hesitates. “I don’t think I should explain it right now.”

Silence, for a moment. “You want to wait to tell me until I’m myself again.”

He nods slowly. “Yeah...I guess.”

“What if we’re unable to find a solution, and I stay this way?”

“You won’t.”

Why does she keep asking those questions? He knows they won’t bother her right now, but she’s also said she still...understands, somehow, what the rest of them are going through. In an objective sort of way. If she knows it will hurt him to ask why does she ask?

But she raises an eyebrow at him like she did this morning, and she does it again. “But if I did?”

He stares at her longer this time. She’s looking at him with those eyes he’s always been sure could see right through him and…

Something in his gut twists, and he knows what she’s doing.

She’s trying to make him think about it. She’s trying to prepare him for the worst.

Without emotions she may only be doing it because she knows it will be better for the workings of the team if they’re all prepared, but…

There has to be part of her that’s doing it for him. He has to believe that.

“Pidge…”

His eyes drift shut. He can hear her laughing in his memory and he’s not ready to let it go.

“We’re not giving up, okay? I’m not. If…” His throat clogs briefly, and he has to swallow a few times to clear it. “I-If it comes to that I’ll deal with it then.”

Please don’t ask me to let you go before I have to.

Read Chpt 4 >>

** Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to hear what you think! **

#plance #plangst #vld fanfic #langst #angst #vld lance #vld pidge #vld allura #voltron legendary defender #prompt fill

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ellipsesarefun · 5 years ago

Text

Gossip.

Voltron fanfic.

390 prompts: 60, 61, 48, 7

A/N: prompt dialogues are italicized. Oh and that gossip really is true. Just.. tweaked it a bit. hahaha.

Cramming, studying, cramming. That's what everyone's been doing lately. Keith certainly isn't the exception to the rule. He has his own Embryology and Cell Biology notes to revise, as well as a Genetics report sheet to work on, and a thesis paper to draft and edit. He stacks up his textbooks and notebooks in one side and then rests the notebook, pen, and highlighter in front.

Right. Everything is already settled. Keith was about to begin when a thunk sounded on the table and a large groan ringing his ears. Keith exhales an air he'd been holding in and ignores the person beside him.

"I can't do this anymore." Says his unsolicited seatmate. The familiar whiny voice is Lance, all right. Keith keeps his eyes on the paper, scribbling his notes.

"Fuck..." He hears Lance curse, "I feel like I've been hit by a car." Keith flicks a page and he continues his actions. Another sigh breaks loose but Keith steels his ignorance and careens away from his seatmate. He slides his textbook over and cracks open to a bookmarked page.

Lance grumbles and repeats his complaints for what seems the second time (because somehow he's a never-ending stream of those Keith cares less to count). Keith shoots a glance to Lance shoving his books and notebooks; he smiles.

"Frankly I couldn't care less." Keith obliges a reply. His retort is rewarded with a dry look.

"I couldn't either." A third party intervenes. Keith turns to tousled ash orange hair and circular wire-rimmed glasses.

"Hey Pidge." They bump fists and she pulls out a chair beside him.

"Watcha readin'?" She asks, straying away from his gaze to arch an eyebrow at Lance. She returns to her question to Keith before Lance starts a rapport.

"Just on the chick embryo serial slide I missed to take pictures on." He says, lightly sliding towards her where the text faces her direction, "Do you have pics?"

"Yea, hold on." She takes out her phone and shoves it to his side and continues to rummage through her things for other school materials. Without hesitation, he grasps it in his hands, swiping the password. He's done this a thousand times that Pidge wouldn't sick her robot on him whenever he looks at her messages by accident. Lance, however...

He glances at his other seatmate, who was already propped beside his shoulder, shining blue eyes fixated on the phone screen.

Eh. Keith shrugs and thumbs the picture folder icon. The folder opens and he scrolls through the visual gallery. Somehow, there's quite enough slides that he's a little confused which one he's looking for. Her Histology class must be tackling the gastro-intestinal tract, he muses. When pink blobs take over the screen, he stops. He squints and taps on one of the pictures, revealing a pink blob of chick embryo with labeled parts in arrows and boxes.

"No way." Lance says, impressed, "Who has the time to do those things?" Keith snorts.

"People who like to ace in class handled by professors with favoritism issues." Pidge grumbles. She quickly arranges her notebooks and yellow pads in systematic order.

"Aren't you a Professor's favorite, though?" Lance points a finger at her. "Far from it!" She exclaims, batting his finger away from her line of sight, "I mean sure I get high grades but I'm more of a menace than an angel and professors don't like that. It's Acxa who is..."

"And that's a problem because...?" Lance trails off, and gestures at her with a tilt of his head to finish the sentence. She shakes her head.

"It's not Acxa who's the problem. It's Professor Haggar who is." Pidge rants. This isn't the first time Keith's seen her this haggard over anything (or anyone) but the overexaggerated squint of the eyes and warped frown is a sight. Even Lance is slowly backing away from Keith's side.

"What's this about Professor Haggar?" A muffled voice asks. All heads turn to Hunk munching on a cookie. Behind him follows Allura. Another beat of silence hasn't passed as Lance reiterates on Pidge's misery. When he finishes, the two have already taken their respective seats on the table. Beside Pidge, Hunk nods along.

"Yea, I get what you mean." Hunk empathizes as he chews the cookie on his stubby fingers, "Haggar has always been so moody. For the most part, she's okay with everyone except on her worst days." He opens his mouth, expecting the soft chocolate chip goodness on his tongue, only to munch on thin air. Hunk gasps, darting around for the cookie thief. His heated gaze lands on Lance, who was licking the remains of his last beloved bite.

"Hey! I was gonna eat that!" Hunk exclaims. The awful cookie thief merely smiles, not an ounce of guilt present in his smug look.

"Oops. Sorry. I was pretty hungry." His nonchalant demeanor wavers when chiding looks shoot at him from everyone around the table. Lance huffs and shrugs. Allura shakes her head and sighs.

"She quite has a noticeable favoritism, though." Allura chimes beside Hunk, tucking a lock of her white hair behind her ear, "Sometimes she does cater to her students needs, but only when she seems available. She often goes out for 'coffee breaks'," she draws air quotes, "but doesn't come back until the class session is over. There was an instance when Shiro spotted her with Professor Coran at the Tropical Hut by Altea Avenue."

"But You can't blame her." Hunk reasons, "Usually her Histology and Embryology lab classes are from eleven in the morning up until two in the afternoon. Of course she's going to be hungry at some point? Even the students go out to eat for thirty minutes."

"Yes, Hunk, but to not returning to her class until the session almost ends by ten or twenty minutes?" Allura rapports on. She exhales a frustrated sigh and fiddles with her long white curls. Pidge looks down to her right as her teeth gnaw at the bottom of her lip.

"I mean Histology and Embryology lab sessions are mostly looking at the slides and consulting the textbook?" Pidge says. Keith nods and looks at Allura.

"Yea, and she always makes it a point to lecture a summary of the whole concept before she leaves us to our work." He says, "You really can't blame her."

"But still." Allura insists with a glare. They all relent.

"Well, we can all agree that she has a tad bit of favoritism." Hunk says.

"More like over the top with an icing of her moodiness." Pidge mumbles.

"True." That Keith can attest to. He's heard stories from a couple of his seniors about her. She had been a little too generous with certain students, like Acxa. Allowing extra questions after class, even to the point where she allows her favorites to her office.. Not once had he witnessed Professor Haggar snap at Acxa. And he's been with her throughout their entire block-terms and several other classes where Professor Haggar managed, as well as numerous study sessions with the rest of Acxa's group of friends.

Rumors fly around as her being terror thesis advisor. She has been known to provide vague instructions to students who are new to the field yet is seen to be helpful and hands on to specific people.. Would snap at anyone at certain times when they make a mistake yet would calmly criticize to a select few. So yea. Pidge has a point.

"Hey guys, am I late?" All heads turn again to find a hulk of a man with an undercut bed-hair, dark circles under his eyes and two colored shoes.

"Hey Shiro." Keith greets him. The said man lights up before flickering his eyes around his upper body.

"Hey, have you seen the...?" He maneuvers his hands around, circling himself until his hand reaches a paper stuck to his back, "Oh."

"Are you okay?" Keith asks. Shiro turns around to him with a tired smile.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" He folds the paper and settles it on the table by the empty seat.

"You're wearing two different shoes." Keith gestures down. Shiro follows his gaze and jolts at the sight.

"Oops. I-oh god." He says, mortified. Keith waves a hand.

"It's all good, Shiro. We don't mind one bit." Keith assures him. Everyone else agrees along with him. He watches Shiro's face fall lax as he slouches down on his seat in between Pidge and Hunk. He closes his eyes and wow, does Keith see the thickness of those bags.

"I'm gonna nap for a few minutes." Shiro whispers, "Wake me up in a few minutes." They all say their affirmations before they return to whatever it is they're doing. The topic on Haggar has died down and Pidge is now scanning her notes. Hunk, Allura and Lance do the same, with another topic at hand. Keith casts a smile at the snoring Shiro and he quietly steers back to his notes.

Sigh.

#390 prompts #voltron #pidge #allura #lance #keith #hunk #shiro #ellipsesarefun writes

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