#let's hope i managed to fix all the bits where copy and pasting italics got rid of the space after them

[letapollojusticesayfuck]

“would you come to my funeral?” + narumitsu

"I'm going to write something short," I say, and then come out with nearly 1300 words of Angst. But this really was the perfect line for some good angst, and so I hope you like it! (and please excuse any typos, I very much have not done any editing here)

Thanks, Sparrow! :)

Send me a randomly-generated line of dialogue and some characters, and I'll write a (relatively) short fic!

............

It’s raining. That’s the thing that Phoenix notices, first—the way the water collects on the pane-glass of the window, the office dark and silent otherwise.

How long has he been in the building for the weather to have changed so drastically? How long did it take to extricate himself from the aftermath of the trial, to escape the celebrations and cheer once he’d noticed the conspicuous absence where someone should have been?

Long enough for the cup of tea abandoned on the desk to have gone stone-cold, he realizes, when he presses his fingers gently against the side of the delicate china vessel. Long enough that Miles Edgeworth might be long gone by now, and he’d have to ride his bicycle home in the storm, without even getting a chance to check in with his oldest friend.

Motion, from the corner of his eye, and Phoenix swings around to a previously unexamined corner of the room, in the shadow of the vibrant pink sofa and the framed jacket on the wall. A hiding place, of sorts, and for half a second he feels the chill of adrenaline through his veins as he wonders if he’s about to be attacked in Edgeworth’s office, victim of a trap planted for the prosecutor and not for him.

But he relaxes, as much as is possible, when he recognizes the figure slumped against the wall by his distinctive cravat, his steel-grey hair. Miles Edgeworth, looking distinctly miserable, but Phoenix will take it if it means he’s here.

“Of course you’d manage to find me,” the man grumbles, and Phoenix laughs, awkwardly.

“Well, you know what they say about defense attorneys,” he jokes, hand combing through the hair on the back of his neck. “Always sticking our noses where they don’t belong.”

Miles huffs, as though he can’t be bothered to dignify that with a response. With some trepidation, Phoenix moves closer, kneels next to him, attempts to put himself on a level with the prosecutor. He doesn’t quite reach out, the way he so desperately wants to, because he’s never quite sure where exactly he stands with Edgeworth, these days. He’d hoped, that since they’d cleared up the history behind the DL-6 incident, that they would have properly reconnected, but…

Well. It’s unfortunate that they only ever seem to see each other at opposing ends of the courtroom, or so it seems.

But Edgeworth looks so downtrodden that Phoenix can’t help but want to help him, and so he crosses his legs and leans against the wall, nearly casually, and risks his life to ask his next question:

“What’s the matter? Why aren’t you out with everyone else, celebrating a job well done?”

“Wright. Really?”

“Well, yeah, maybe it didn’t turn out quite as well as it could have, but...we’re still a step closer to fixing the justice system, aren’t we? Sure, the Chief Prosecutor’s….in jail, and the Police Chief is...alsoin jail, but--”

“Wright, I’m going to stop you before you can jam your foot even further in your mouth than it already is.”

“That’s...probably a good idea, yeah.”

They pause, for a moment, listening to the wind and the raindrops against the window. A distant lightning strike illuminates the office, and Phoenix is reminded of quite how high up they are.

“Would you come to my funeral?” Edgeworth asks, apropos of nothing, and Phoenix’s head whips around almost faster than he can process the words.

“Your—Miles, what are you--” He can’t form a full sentence, finding his mind blank even at the prospect. Edgeworth sighs, deeply, and leans his head back against the wall, eyes closed.

“My funeral, Wright, it’s not that difficult of a question. At such a time as I perish, whether through natural or unnatural means, would you attend the event that I assume someone would inevitably arrange for honoring my memory or other such tripe.”

Phoenix is still stuck processing, the very prospect of Edgeworth and death and funerals all sparking associations he’d rather not think too hard about, calling to mind the ceremony they’d had for Mia not even six months ago—and, even earlier, the image of a far younger Miles Edgeworth in a black suit, surrounded by arrangements of lilies and with an unreadable expression.

“I—well, in a purely hypothetical scenario, because you aren’t going to have a funeral anytime soon—in that case, of course I would come to your funeral, Miles, what do you take me for?”

“Truthfully, I don’t know. I’m not—” and Edgeworth pauses, clutching at the fabric of his sleeve as he averts his gaze to the opposite corner of the room. “I’m not exactly a paradigm of innocence, and your reputation for...well…”

“Are you still trying to say that you’re guilty when we’ve proven that time and time again to be untrue? Miles, c’mon, that’s bullshit. And—my reputation?What, do you think I’d even care, if you were—”

“Wright, surely you’re not that much in denial. I’m as much guilty of evidence tampering as Lana Skye. And worse—you know the tactics us prosecutors employ. I did not gain the name Demon Prosecutor for nothing. I’m not—you shouldn’t even associate with me.”

Phoenix frowns, eyebrows furrowing. He’s clenching his hands into fists, he realizes, as he takes a deep breath and focuses on trying to have this discussion rationally, as much as possible.

“Miles Edgeworth, you can’t blame yourself for doing as you were taught. You were only a child, you should have been able to trust your mentor figures—it wasn’t on you to be able to construct a detailed critique of the legal system! And you think that I wouldn’t associate with you because of that? I guess…” he swallows, looking away from the prosecutor. “I guess you don’t know me as well as I thought you did, then.”

The silence is almost tangible, as they let Phoenix’s words sink in, settle around them in the dark office. In his mind, Phoenix begins to count the seconds that it’s taking Edgeworth to answer—one, two, three…

“I suppose I don’t,” he finally supplies, and that’s it, then, the kind of sentence you don’t continue a conversation from. It’s not the only thing he seems to want to say, Phoenix notes, but it’s the only thing he vocalizes, letting the sound of the rain fill in the empty spaces.

Phoenix breathes out, slowly, and stands up. His knees pop as he does, tiny cracking noises competing with the rumble of thunder from outside.

He looks over his shoulder, and Edgeworth’s still on the ground, avoiding eye contact. It’s not like he wants to leave, but…

Maybe Miles just needs some time alone. He seems to have a lot on his mind, and Phoenix probably isn’t helping by bothering him with conversation.

He lets himself out of the office, vowing to himself that he’ll check back in tomorrow morning, when the rainstorm’s let up and the world’s back to normal. He isn’t going to let Edgeworth wallow in his thoughts for too long, at least.

Overnight, the rain fades to nothing, clouds making way for soft sunshine, promising bright blue skies for the day and uncharacteristically warm weather for February. Miles Edgeworth’s office window lets in the sunlight, where it illuminates the grand desk and the items on top of it. In turn, the light falls on a pen, a nameplate, a lamp.

A teacup, still half-full from the night before. And…

A note, with one single line of neat cursive penned in the middle of the crisp, textured paper:

Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death

[fantasyfan]

Coming Out: Nico di Angelo Oneshot

Summary: Nico summons Bianca to talk to her, and ends up spilling a lot more than he intended to. Characters: Nico and Bianca di Angelo, Hades Slightly angsty

(I apologize in advance if I get any Italian wrong, or put the words in the wrong place. I only used two words, but Google Translate was used for both of them.)  There also might be some italics missing, since I copy pasted from Google Docs, so apologies and if you think an italic is needed, reply to the post or smthn and I’ll add it. 

Without further ado, here it is!

12-year-old Nico sat on his bed, head in his hands. The Labyrinth was gone, and the battle was over, gone and over like all the praise he received. 

For once, Nico had been a part of the camp; he’d sat around the campfire, eaten and laughed, having fun. 

But all it took was a week for the excitement to die down, and the other campers became wary of him.

He was only 12, for Gods’ sake! Why were they so scared? Sure, he was a son of Hades, but Percy was a son of Poseidon (and older than himself, Nico might add), yet they all gushed over him.

This annoyed Nico to no end, so eventually, he found his way to his father’s palace, back to his old room. The one Hades had offered him after he ran away from Camp Half-Blood. 

The room was hardly touched. Nico had only spent a few days here before running off, trying to find a way to bring his sister back. 

Of course he’d been convinced to let her rest at peace. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to talk to her.

“Bianca,” he greeted softly, reaching out to touch her before drawing his hand back, reminding himself he couldn’t. 

“Nico,” Bianca smiled, brushing ghostly lips over his forehead. “Mio fratello.”

Nico closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, trying to imagine that Bianca was really here with him, in a physical body instead of a ghostly one.

Sighing, he sat back down on the bed. Bianca was here, able to talk to him at least. He couldn’t resurrect her, so speaking to her was the next best option. 

His mind subconsciously piece things together and he had a horrible thought. Panic shot through him as he jumped up and tried to grab Bianca by her shoulders, hands falling right through her image.

Gritting his teeth, Nico crammed his hands into his pockets and instead fixed Bianca with the most serious gaze he could muster.

“Are you going to reincarnate?” Though they were hidden from sight, deep in his jean pockets, Nico’s hands were clenched tightly into fists, knuckles white. In his head, he said a prayer to the Gods who screwed up his life so badly, hoping with all his might that his sister would say no. 

“Oh Nico,” Bianca began, looking at him regretfully, eyes filled with sadness. 

That was all the answer he needed. Trying to control his panic and the tears threatening to form, Nico clenched his hands even tighter. Nails cut into skin, and the son of Hades could feel blood seeping out from underneath his fingers. Even worse than that was the fact that even Nico himself could feel the absolute fear radiating off him. 

If Bianca reincarnated, then he would fully, truly, lose her. She was his only family, and Nico felt tears pricking his eyes at the thought of being completely alone.

“Don’t.” It was all he said, biting his lip to try and keep the tears from escaping.

Bianca stared at him in surprise, and Nico realized what he just said probably sounded like to his sister. 

Reminding himself that no matter what he wanted, it was his sister’s (regretfully ended, now ghost) life, and he couldn’t guilt her into staying in Elysium forever, just so he could be happy.

“Don’t answer my question,” Nico whispered, voice cracking. 

It was what he meant, when he said ‘Don’t’ but certainly not what he wanted. “Don’t tell me, Bianca. Not now, and not before you go.” 

Breathing sharply, his nails were now digging even deeper into the wounds they had inflicted. The pain was the tipping point for the tears that had been gathering in his eyes, and he began to cry, biting his tongue in a fruitless attempt to hold them back.

Gasping as he unclenched his fists, Nico drew his hands out of his pockets. There were four cuts on his right palm, each around the size of a fingernail. Identical wounds were on his left hand, and Nico bit his lip, watching as blood slowly seeped out, crimson red against his pale skin.

“Nico!” Bianca frowned, biting her lip in concern as she reached out for his injuries before realizing she couldn’t help.

That gesture hurt even more than his palms, and Nico clenched his teeth to keep his silent tears at that volume.

Trying to still his desperately shaking hands, Nico pulled open the nightstand drawer. Inside were squares of ambrosia and bottles of nectar that Hades had put for him, and Nico silently thanked his father. 

Pouring the golden liquid over his hands, Nico could feel cuts slowly closing, and the physical pain was soon gone with the injuries. 

Emotional hurt was harder to fix, and usually couldn’t be resolved with Gods’ food. That didn’t mean Nico wouldn’t try though, so he lifted the bottle to his mouth and took careful sips of the golden liquid. 

Pulling some ambrosia out as well, he slowly ate it, restricting himself so he didn’t accidentally burn up from consuming too much of the Gods’ food.

By the time Nico was done, the yellow square was gone, as was about half the bottle of nectar. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked back at his sister, who had patiently waited while her brother silently sobbed while taking swigs of nectar and bites of ambrosia. 

She was sitting on the bed next to him, handout of pure spite and anger, he cursed that Bianca was able to touch the bed but not him.

Using the (now) healed palm of his hand to brush away stray tears, Nico cleared his throat. 

“Bianca, since um, you’re not, uh, not,” his voice cracked and he stumbled over his words, but Nico forged on. “Since you’re not going to be here much longer, I figured I might as well make the most out of this time.” 

Before Bianca could say something to comfort him, Nico blurted it out. “I’m gay.” 

A ghost of a smile appeared on his sister’s face, and she reached out as if to touch his face, cup it with her hands like she used to.

“It’s okay, mio fratello.” She moved closer to him, and Nico could swear he felt her breath by his ear. “I am too,” Bianca breathed. 

Nico managed to somehow choke on nothing, beginning to gasp and wheeze as he clawed at his throat. Vigorously coughing, he stared at his sister in shock as he pounded his chest, trying to get air in.

Bianca nearly burst out in raucous laughter, but with a lot of struggling, she managed to keep it to a few quiet giggles. 

When he was finally able to speak, Nico simply choked out, “You are?” before blushing so hard he looked like he was still choking. 

“Yes, Nico, I am.” Binaca smiled, though looked slightly concerned at his reddening face and so pointed to the bottle of nectar on the drawer. 

Nico took a sip of the drink, letting the cool liquid run down his tortured throat, which hurt like hell from his (concerningly long) coughing fit.

Bianca snarkily pointed to the closet while her brother drank, smirking. “Do you want to try this the proper way?” she asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Nico rolled his eyes but complied, chuckling as he slipped into the closet. He stayed there for a good minute before bursting out, wearing a colourful pride shirt with many accessories.

“I’m gay, Gods dammit!” he screeched, looking like a rainbow in the cemetery, with his messy black hair and pale skin. 

Bianca burst out laughing at the thought, proudly watching her brother as ghostly tears (Ghosts can cry. Who knew?) threatened to trickle down her cheeks.

“I’m not going to ask where you got those things,” she smiled, pretending to brush an unruly curl from his forehead. The two of them ignored the fact that the hair stayed right where it was when her hand passed straight through it.

“Nico, go show Hades. Tell him.” Nico’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open like a fish’s. Bianca smiled again, her brother’s facial features hilarious. “Nico, I’m serious though. Come on, before your courage wanes.” 

“Why should I tell him?” Nico asked, scoffing as he turned away. The two had been chatting for a few minutes about all the troubles of being gay when Bianca ruined the mood by demanding he tell their father.

“Nico.” His sister’s voice forced him to look at her, straight into translucent eyes. “I’m not your only family. When I’m gone, you still have Hades.” She chose not to add the part about how Camp Half-Blood could be his family too, if he let them get closer. One step at a time.

“Hades,” Nico snarled, putting as much venom as he could in the name, “killed our mother. Hades put us in this situation.”

He knew that neither of those were true, but said them anyway; truthfully, he was just scared, finding excuses so he wouldn’t have to tell his father.

“Nico,” Bianca sighed quietly. Eyebrows raising for a second as she began to fade, Bianca quickly understood what was happening.“You’ve summoned me for far too long already, I have to go.” Nico let out a strangled sound, restraining himself from reaching out to try and keep her here with him, because he knew it would be useless. 

“It was lovely talking to you again, and I’m sure that Father will say the same when you tell him.” Nico’s lips thinned and he frowned, and Bianca knew that look well. “Please, for me, mio fratello?” She asked, voice barely audible as she faded away, back in Elysium.

Nico could never resist it when his sister spoke in Italian. It would only be used when she was expressing extreme admiration or happiness, which was why he absolutely melted when Bianca called him ‘mio fratello.’ 

That was also why he was tugging on a jacket to cover his pride shirt, buttons, pins, and bracelets as he went to find Hades.

Besides, what kind of brother would he be if he didn’t grant his sister’s last, true, dying wish? Nico felt like Bianca had been waiting for him to summon her one last time before choosing to be reborn. To let them have one more conversation before she was truly gone.

Pushing that thought away, Nico wandered the halls of Hades’ vast palace, looking in every room for the God himself.

“Father?” Nico finally picked the right room, opening the door to find Hades in a chair, reading a book.

“Yes?” He didn’t even bother to look up from whatever he was reading, and that slightly deflated Nico’s already waning confidence. 

“I have something to tell you.” Anxiously shifting from foot to foot in the doorway, Nico awaited his father’s response. 

Eyebrows raising by a fraction, Hades raised a hand, beckoning his son into the room. Nervously shuffling in, Nico stood a good meter away from the God of the Underworld, afraid. 

Not that the distance would do much since, well, Hades was the God of the Underworld.

“Do continue,” his father drawled, idly flipping a page as he spoke. 

“It’s kind of a serious confession,” Nico mumbled, almost visibly shaking from having to restrain himself from turning tail and running, as well as the feeling of absolute terror bubbling in his stomach.

Still not bothering to look up, Hades rolled two fingers, gesturing for him to continue.

“I’m...g-ga-” Nico stuttered, already feeling his face heat up. It took him a good minute to compose himself and finish his short sentence, during which Hades hardly blinked an eye at the awkwardness. “I’m gay,” he finally managed to choked out, voice barely above a whisper.

Immediately, Nico began to panic. His dad was the literal God of the Underworld, so even if he died, then he could still be sent to the Fields of Punishment. Afterall, who cared about the small Italian boy enough to argue with a God?

Bianca cares, he reminded himself. But she’s dead, you idiot! She’s a ghost, and going to be reborn soon. If you go to the Field of Punishment, what will she be able to do?

Panic overwhelmed him, and Nico was on the verge of hyperventilating. Until his father spoke and somehow calmed every nerve in his body.

“Okay.” That was it. One syllable to assure Nico that everything was alright. His breathing slowed, but he wasn’t so easily convinced that Hades was okay with him being gay.

“Father, I don’t think you heard me properly. Perhaps you were distracted with reading? I said I was gay.” Unzipping his jacket, Nico let it fall to the floor and made wild gestures at his clothes and accessories. 

“Nico, I heard you fine. What’s your confession?” Hades’ eyes flicked up but he hardly seemed surprised at the rainbow wear, going back to read his book right after looking.

“I…” Nico stared in disbelief. Was Hades just dismissing his coming out as if it were a regular occurrence? Dismissing the fact that he was gay as though it hadn’t been something that Nico had fought tooth and nail to keep secret?

“Nico?” The God prompted, flipping another page.

“That’s it. That was the confession,” Nico whispered. “I’m gay. That’s the confession.” For the first time in their (admittedly short) conversation, Hades properly looked up from his book, frowning at Nico. 

“That’s your confession?”

The boy silently nodded, looking at his feet. “Well, I...I thought you’d be mad or something.” 

“Mad at the fact you’re gay.” Hades (somehow) looked Nico in the eyes (even though he was staring at the floor as though it were the most interesting thing in the world) for confirmation, and he nodded again.

Sighing, Hades closed his book and stood, gently placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m not and won’t be mad.” 

“Really?” NIco gasped, looking up at him with shining eyes.

“Of course,” Hades scoffed. “There’s no way you can be more gay than Apollo, and he’s been my nephew for thousands of years.” He paused for a second before summoning a chair. “That reminds me. You are long overdue for a Greek Mythology review if you think that I, a Greek God, would have a problem with a gay son.”

[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

Fragile Hearts Ch.11- To Have Been Where We Have Been

Click the OP  (Original post) if the READ MORE link does not show!

THANK YOU TO @bluejayb1rd FOR COMMISSIONING!!! IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG T.T also, Tumblr doesn’t transfer italics from copy paste, so.... yeah, I suggest the ao3 link, but it shouldn’t be too bad. 

Click Here for Chapter 1

Click Here for Chapter 10

Fragile Hearts Playlist here

AO3 Links: 

Chapter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11928798/chapters/44004358 Full Story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11928798

It felt like with a single blink, a month and a half had gone by. From spring break to graduation, it felt like the days had passed all too quickly.

Pidge stared at herself in the mirror, her fingers grazing over her new haircut. Accompanying Sam to get her hair dyed and styled a week ago resulted in a free haircut because her own had grown out so strangely, the hairdresser had quite literally begged her to let him fix it. Now it fell in a clean diagonal cut, voluminous by the natural waves of her hair.

Samantha and Ana had helped with her makeup. The dress she wore showed some of her old battle scars, but her graduation gown would cover those for a decent amount of time.

“Nervous?” Pidge looked from her reflection to the reflection of her friend in the mirror.

“A little,” she admitted softly. “But… I also want to get it over with.”

Sam stood next to her and wrapped an arm around her. “Well, your guys are ransacking our pantry waiting for you, so you might wanna head out there so they can see you.” Pidge laughed and shook her head. “Come on. Before I get all emotional when we haven’t even said our goodbyes yet.”

Pidge nodded and started for the door, self-conscious with the clack of her heels. She was so unused to them, they were already hurting her feet.

Sure enough when she walked out into her living room, she could hear Lance, Hunk, and Matt moving around the kitchen and the crunch of chips and the crinkling of wrappers along with their voices talking over each other.

She stood in the entrance to watch as they argued over some game until Hunk’s eyes fell on her and immediately made her blush a thousand shades of crimson. When his words stopped short, Matt and Lance looked over too.

“Pidge! You look amazing!” Lance said. He walked over to her and took her hand to twirl her around as Leon barked and pawed at her legs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress.”

Matt came up to her and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Oh, Katie.” He hugged her so tightly, she felt the air leave her lungs. “Mom and Dad would’ve been so proud,” he whispered. Pidge felt a knot build in her throat. He kissed her cheek before he let go of her.

Then Hunk went up to her. She looked up at him and felt her heart hammer against her chest with the gentle way he looked at her. His eyes full of undeniable love as he touched her cheek gently. “Exquisite,” he whispered with a smile. He leaned in to kiss her chastely on her lips. He never liked to do more than that in front of Matt.

“Okay, we gotta get going, Katie. It’s gonna be a crowded mess trying to get everyone together,” Samantha said as she hooked another earring into her earlobe. “Wanna ride with me?”

“Yeah, we can meet you there after the ceremony is done. Then we get to stuff our faces with food!” Lance said. He shook her by the shoulders. “Ready to be an official graduate?”

“God yes,” she said with an exhausted sigh.

The three of them hugged her and Sam before they left the house. Sam had a pre-grad and post-grad playlist. They sang along to it and stuck with each other up until they were sitting in lined up chairs. Pidge balanced her feet on her heels, trying to calm all the nervous energy she had pent up in her body. Her graduation gown was a little rough, but she was relieved wearing it.

All that time, and she was finally sitting there, her degree within reach. She wasn’t sure what all she would do with it in Vegas yet. After so much time in war and dealing with therapy and then stressing over classes, she just wanted to breathe. She wanted to be normal for a while, with a normal job where she could just relax for a bit. But for now, she wanted to walk across that stage, get her degree, and enjoy being with the people she loved and cherished.

She might have dozed off in the ceremony if it hadn’t been for how anxious she was about walking across the stage with her heels. The closer they got to saying her name, the more restless she became.

“Katharina Holt.”

She heard an immediate response to her name. Cheers that three people alone should not have been able to make, and yet they managed it. When Pidge looked over at the sound as she walked to get her degree, she noticed a giant banner with her name and a familiar icon- the very one she’d programmed into her computer when she was fifteen. And of course, Lance had a megaphone. And Matt had noise makers. And Hunk had the lungs of a fucking opera singer.

Pidge couldn’t help but laugh and blush the entire way back to her seat.

Once all the names were called, all the families had cheered, the tassels were moved, and a final announcement was made for the graduates of 2019, a final deafening cheer gave way to the chatter of families and the clicks of cameras. Samantha, Ana, and even Sophie found her and huddled with her for selfies.

Once Matt, Hunk, and Lance found her, they also started taking photos. She got one with each of them, and a few selfies.

Then they heard someone ask, “Would you guys want one as a group?”

Pidge looked over and almost immediately recognized the Garrison uniform and the one-eyed man smiling. “I-Iverson?” He smiled wider, and his eyes nearly shut with how the corners wrinkled. “What are you doing here?” she asked through surprised laughter as she accepted his hug.

“I’m 26 and I have this internal instinct to stand at attention right now,” Lance muttered with a groan.

Iverson laughed at him and once he greeted the rest of his former students, he gave them a smile. “We get notified when a former Garrison student graduates from elsewhere. We also gave you a scholarship, so we kept track by default. But when I saw your name on the list of this year’s graduates, I had to come.” He looked past them for a second before putting a hand on Lance’s shoulder, laughing when Lance immediately tensed. “And maybe this can help you feel a little more at ease, cadet.”

“What do you-?”

“Miss Katharina Holt?”

Pidge turned and screamed, “Oh my God!” so loudly that the groups taking pictures all around them were startled.

“No fucking way…,” Lance breathed out.

Hunk was covering his face, having been speechless the entire time.

“Shiro?” Matt said softly.

Sure enough, it was Shiro. In a Garrison uniform, with his tuft of white hair and well kept stubble framing his face, pale scar still visible across his nose, and holding a large bouquet of flowers in his arms. “In the flesh. Mostly, of course,” he answered. Pidge leaned against Matt for support and Lance sat himself on the floor to handle the shock. Hunk was the first to move, engulfing Shiro in a hug. “Hey, Hunk. It’s good to see you,” Shiro said with a gentle smile.

“Oh my God, it’s Shiro. Oh my God. Oh my God, it’s fucking Shiro.” Lance seemed to have short-circuited, repeating the same over and over.

Pidge could feel herself shaking, even as she took the bouquet and hugged him tightly. “How did you even get here?” she asked, her voice unable to go above a whisper all of a sudden.

She pulled back, reaching out to touch his face and his hair as if to be sure he was real. Shiro chuckled and let her as he explained. “Well, Iverson told me you were graduating, so I came back to the Garrison for a while. I wasn’t sure if we should approach you, but when we saw these guys here with you, we figured… why not? I hope that was okay?”

“Yes! Yes, absolutely!” Shiro smiled wider and switched to greet Matt. Pidge moved closer to Hunk who was wiping at his eyes and sniffing. “Thank you so much for coming. That means so much to me,” she told Iverson.

Iverson looked at her, his gaze full of mirth. “Katie, you snuck into my office and returned with fake documents as a boy and became a paladin who saved the world. This is honestly the least I could ever possibly do.” Pidge laughed and felt herself blush. She felt Hunk’s hand slide into hers as Shiro knelt down to coax Lance off the ground where he seemed to be shaking. “And I don’t know if it’s something you might want, but you should know that if you ever need it, a job will always be available for you with the Garrison.” He smiled, and Pidge thanked him again.

“We should get someplace without so many spectators,” Pidge suggested when she saw that people kept glancing over at the uniformed men and the person sitting on the grass in a suit. “Love, you should help Shiro get Lance up.”

Hunk nodded and moved to heft Lance up. He was unsteady in his steps, but he leaned against Hunk for support. “Well, I think a celebration is now doubly called for,” Hunk said, absentmindedly soothing Lance. “We’re heading to Pidge’s to finish packing up for the move before partying. You’re coming right?” he asked Shiro.

“If you don’t mind extra people there,” Shiro said with a smile.

“Of course I don’t mind! This is insane!” Pidge hooked her arm into her brother’s. “This is a better surprise than I ever could have dreamt up, Shiro. I wouldn’t want you to go so quickly.”

Shiro looked at Iverson. “What do you say? Lay down some higher duties for a fun night of catching up?” Iverson laughed and agreed. “We’ll meet you there, just give me the address.”

--

It was easier to finish packing with two extra hands. Pidge hardly had to do much more than tell them which boxes to get and where to arrange them in the U-haul. They were done just in time for her roomates who returned from celebratory dinners.

They were dumbstruck at the sight of Shiro in uniform, and Pidge couldn’t help but laugh to herself. Of course, Sam knew who he was right away.

“Oh wow, it’s an honor to meet you,” she said, wide-eyed as she incessantly shook his hand. “My brother loves you so much-”

“W-what?” Shiro asked with a nervous laugh.

“You haven’t heard of Lance’s best-selling series? It’s all the hype in the YA genre,” Matt said, nudging Lance playfully.  

“I had to pull a lot of strings to get the Garrison to turn a blind eye to that,” Iverson said with a huff. “But I’m proud to see how far along you’ve come too. All of you.” Pidge, Matt, Hunk, and Lance looked at each other and smiled. It was so strange to think that they’d all been in his class at some point, reprimanded and muttering under their breath. Before they knew anything about anything.

But the comment also made something cold sprout in Pidge’s heart because she couldn’t help but notice how much more prominent it was that they were still missing a teammate. And based on the look on Hunk and Lance’s faces, they felt it too.

Shiro was getting an over-excited run down of the books he hadn’t known he was part of from Sam, and once she managed to catch him up to the best of her knowledge which came from her brother, he went over to Lance.

As Iverson continued talking to Matt, Pidge stayed off to the side with Hunk. He wrapped his arms around her and swayed her gently as she watched the scene. The people from her past life catching up with nostalgia in their laughter and the people in her new life dancing and singing along to music that played on a speaker, celebrating a milestone. It felt surreal seeing them both in one place, but at the same time it seemed normal. With Sam asking Matt and Iverson questions about the Garrison, and Ana trying to offer them food, Sophie flirting obnoxiously with Lance and Shiro simultaneously, and Leon running around and getting pet by everyone.

“You okay?” Hunk whispered in her ear.

She hummed and nodded. “It’s overwhelming. But also relaxing,” she said. She turned to him and mess with the collar of his shirt. “It feels like I could’ve been doing this all along, you know?”

“Honeybee… You can’t keep berating yourself over the past. Besides it was a choice we all made.” She nodded and wrapped her arms around him. “Come on. You’re a graduate now. How does that feel?”

“Ugh, like I can finally breathe!” she said with a laugh. She looked up at him and smiled. “I missed you so much.”

“Well now you’ll be a quick drive away. No more long distance. We did it.” She smiled wider and sighed as he leaned in to kiss her.

They heard someone clear their throat and broke apart to see Shiro looking at them with a smile that made crow’s feet appear in the corner of his eyes. “So when did this start?” he asked. “You two were always a good pair, and I guess this was bound to happen.”

Hunk laughed and started playing with her hair. “It’s only been a handful of months. But yeah, it feels like longer sometimes. We gotta thank Lance and the blatant lack of secrecy in his books.” Pidge laughed and nodded, recalling the night they first kissed. “How have you been, Shiro? What’s the universe like without us?”

“Oh, you know. They miss us. They still sell figurines and they have ‘vintage’ photos of the days we visited. But everyone’s safe and happy. Allura and Coran are out there helping the planets prosper. They work with me in keeping relations with Earth and all that.” Shiro looked over his shoulder and Pidge saw Lance with Iverson, blushing at something. Based on the way Sam was laughing, Iverson must have been embarrassing him. Shiro looked back at them. “Lance said you guys found him at a book signing.”

“Yeah. My roommate told me about his books and then I found his books and Hunk found a book tour and…. Yeah.”

“You guys… haven’t heard from Keith, have you?”

Hunk and Pidge shared a look. “No. Lance found a photography portfolio he has online, but….”

“I… found his location around that time. It might have changed, but I never told Lance. I offered to find him, but Lance never got back to me,” Pidge said.

Shiro frowned, looking at Pidge then Hunk. “You did something illegal, didn’t you?” Pidge winced and smiled innocently. “Some things just don’t change,” he said with a smile.

“Wait, so… Keith hasn’t even been in contact with you?” Hunk asked.

Shiro shook his head. “Lance asked too, but…. No. I haven’t heard from him, and I don’t get a lot of news when I’m off in a different galaxy.” He sighed and chugged what was left of his beer. “Do you mind sending that portfolio my way?”

“Yeah, of course,” Pidge said.

“So, Pidge. What’s next for you? Moving in with Matt in Vegas and what?”

“I’m not sure yet. I kind of want to take time to calm down. Maybe travel a bit or something? Settle in to Vegas. I do want a job doing what I love with computational skills, but… I’ve done that for so long now, I just want a break.” She felt Hunk massaging her shoulders languidly. “Maybe try to convince Lance to move there too. So he’s not so far away.”

In the kitchen, Ana had taken out a few bottles of liquor and was already setting up for mixers, shots, and whatever else people wanted to have. “Everybody get a drink so we can make a toast!” she called out. Everyone lined up to get something, sipping idly until they were ready for a toast. Ana cleared her throat and raised her glass. “Katie, you’ve been a wonderful roommate and an amazing friend. You’re possibly the smartest person I have ever met and I know I’ll see your name in scientific journals that future college students will have to read and use for research.” Pidge laughed and shook her head. “It’s hard to believe that you’ll be moving away. We’re gonna miss you so much, and we better be invited to your wedding because we absolutely love Hunk!”

“Oh my God,” Pidge said, blushing as she hid her face in Hunk’s arm.

“The four of us graduated today,” Sam said, stepping next to Ana. “But Katie, it’s no secret that you’ve come the farthest. So it’s not just a grad party, but a going away party, and a much needed celebratory party to thank you for everything you’ve done. For us and everyone around you.” Sam managed to keep it vague enough, for the other girls, but Pidge and her former teammates knew what she meant. And they knew that gratitude extended to them. “So a toast to making it through the biggest obstacles and finally reaching the finish line. I’m so happy to have been a part of it with you for the last four years.”

“To Katie!” Sophie said with a wide smile. “And to the class of 2019!”

“To the class of 2019!” they all responded before drinking.

The music was turned up again. They ordered more food to spread on the table. They danced and talked and said goodbyes and reminisced- either about school years or veteran years. Before long Sophie and Ana were drunk, singing along to the karaoke as Pidge suffered the second-hand embarrassment and gave Iverson an apologetic smile.

Iverson only shook his head and continued to drink his whiskey and spent the time talking with his former students or Sam who said her brother would be interested in being part of the program. Sam was the one who bounced about rambling about everything, practically bursting with the awe and feeling starstruck. She asked Lance about signing a copy of a book for her brother and then listened to Shiro describe what the galaxies were like now, and she rambled to Hunk about how he was her brother’s favorite character and how he resonated with him most, then asked Matt what Vegas was like.

Somewhere among the chaos, Hunk took her hand and pulled her aside. They slipped into her room, which was now mostly bare except for Sam’s side.

“I was hoping to steal you away for a dance,” he said, using his phone to scroll through music.

“How sweet,” she said a giddy laugh. She’d had enough to drink to feel light, but not enough to make a fool of herself in front of Iverson or her brother. She felt warm and happy and floaty.

The strum of a guitar filled the room, louder than the muffled noise on the other side of the door. She slipped her hand into Hunk’s as he pulled her near and started stepping side to side, the two of the twirling in a circle.

“This is our first dance as a couple,” she realized as Hunk spun her around gently before pulling her back into him.

“That’s true. But it’ll be hard to surpass dancing in a living room with the furniture pushed aside and fireworks outside the window.” She laughed and pulled her hand away to wrap her arms around his neck instead. “You look happy.”

“I am. I’m with you.” Hunk smiled and nudged his nose against hers gently. “Teach me to say it.” He hummed in confusion. “How to say I love you in Samoan.” Hunk said the phrase, then said it slowly, with Pidge repeating each word after him. The words felt funny on her tongue, but she was determined to learn it. She wanted to tell him she loved him in every language she could. “Okay. Oute a-alofa… ia te… oe.” Hunk nodded, the smile on his face serene and adoring and wonderful. “Oute alofa ia te oe.”

Hunk cupped her face and kissed her, letting the music play around them. The warmth in her body magnified, and she felt dizzy with all of Hunk encompassing her. He pulled away and ran his thumb over her cheek lightly. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” she whispered. “I know you have a hotel, but….” She shrugged and he tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Of course.” He kissed her forehead, and Pidge sighed as she let herself melt against him. “We should get back to the party,” he whispered.

“Mm. Yeah.” She pulled away and took his hand. “I can’t believe Shiro found us.”

“Well, it’s thanks to Iverson. He contacted him for your graduation.” Hunk opened the door for her and they managed to catch the end of a drunk rendition of Hollaback Girl from Ana and Sam. “You know, we were always so terrified of Iverson as students. Who knew all it took was two drunk college girls to scare him?”

Pidge turned and saw Iverson staring at the karaoke with wide eyes and a confused look. She laughed to herself and walked over to sit with him. “Hardened war vet scared of a couple of twenty-year olds?” she teased.

He scoffed and puffed out his chest. “Of course not!” Pidge arched an eyebrow. He deflated and clinked the ice in his glass. “It’s the singing.” That made Pidge laugh even more.

Shiro came up to them, chewing on some nachos. “We’ll head out as soon as I finish this, okay?” Iverson waved a hand dismissively. “As for you two- I’m gonna hear from you more now right?”

“Absolutely,” Pidge promised. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned into him. “I’m really glad you came. It really was the best gift I could have gotten today.”

“I always knew you’d do great things, Pidge,” he said, ruffling her hair.

At that moment, Leon trotted up to them, leash in his maw as he pawed at Hunk’s leg and whined. “Hey buddy, you gotta go outside?” Hunk glanced around and frowned. “Where’s Lance?”

“Uh, I’m not sure, maybe in the bathroom. Here, I can take him,” Pidge offered. She clipped his leash onto his collar and tugged gently. “Come on boy.” She opened the door and froze before she could even fully step out.

Leon barked causing Lance and Sophie to split apart. “Um. Hey, Pidge,” Lance said weakly.

“What the fuck…?” Pidge muttered. Having stayed at the doorway, the others inside came to peer out. Lance was trying to get the lipstick smudges off his mouth and chin, and Sophie was blushing furiously.

“What are you doing out here?” Sophie asked, her words slurring together.

Pidge looked at Lance and held out the leash. “Leon wanted to go outside. Um. Sorry to interrupt?” She turned around and ushered everyone back inside and shut the door. “So that’s a good note to end the party on, right?”

“She was flirting with him all night,” Hunk said. “Guess that was bound to happen.”

Pidge laughed it off, but she couldn’t help the unease in her chest. She knew Lance still had Keith on his mind, and frankly who he made out with was none of her business, but Sophie? Sure they weren’t exactly enemies, but she was definitely her least liked roommate.

“Some things just don’t change,” Shiro echoed. “Okay, yeah, we’re going to head out. I have a number for my office in the Garrison. Keep me up to date, okay? I’ll get in touch when I come back down again, and maybe you guys can give me a tour of Vegas. I’ve only been once.”

“If you see Coran and Allura, tell them we miss them,” Pidge said.

“Oh! Actually, hold on.” Hunk pulled out his wallet and pulled out a folded polaroid photo. “I I took this of all of us the last time they they visited. Give it to them.” It was a photo of Pidge, Lance, Hunk, and Matt sprawled out on the couch, laughing. It was slightly blurry and tilted because taking a selfie with a polaroid was hard, but it was a good photo. “And see if you can get one of them to bring back for us.”

Shiro smiled and tucked the photo in his uniform pocket. “I will. It was really great seeing you guys again. Safe travels and good luck.” He hugged them each and Pidge had to consciously remind herself to let go. “I promise we’ll stay in touch this time.”

Pidge nodded then turned to Iverson to hug him too. Then she and Hunk followed them out to the car. They said goodbye to Lance when they saw him outside, but Lance still looked embarrassed.

They waited for their headlights to disappear down the street before heading back inside. Lance was leaning against the wall with Leon, and Pidge figured Sophie must have gone back inside.

“Go ahead, let me hear it,” he muttered, kicking at the ground.

“Hear what?” Hunk asked. Lance gave him a deadpan look. Hunk sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Dude, you’re an adult. We’re not teenagers anymore, and you can do what you want.”

“Then why can I feel your judgement from here?” Pidge and Hunk shared a look and Lance scoffed. “No, no, no don’t do that! Don’t do the thing. You know, the thing where couples have a whole conversation with a look. Just talk to me.”

“Lance, I’m more upset because you decided to swap spit with Sophie. Of all my roommates.”

Hunk sighed. “And it’s not fair to her. You’re not into her, Lance, and we all know it. You’re still hung up on Keith-”

“Yeah, and what do I do about that?” he snapped. “It’s not like you and Pidge. You guys got lucky. You guys met again and you were still in love with her and it worked out. Keith left me. He’s disappeared off the face of the Earth and the probability of seeing him again are slim, and even if I did, it’s not like we can just pick up where we left off. And I can’t spend another five years getting over it.” He rubbed his face tiredly and then scratched his head, stuffing his other hand into his jeans pocket. “I’m sorry I kissed her, Pidge. She was pushing, and I was lonely and tipsy and I figured it wouldn’t hurt. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun.”

Pidge smiled and hooked her arm with his. “You didn’t. I just don’t like her. Besides she’s a really messy drunk, and she’ll probably forget this by tomorrow. And I told you- if you want me to find him, I can. Just say the word.”

“What if you can’t?” he whispered.

Pidge looked at Hunk. He nodded. “I already did once.” Lance’s head snapped up. “He was in some tiny island in the middle of nowhere. You still weren’t sure if you wanted to look for him, so I didn’t tell you. But if you want to find him now, I can help.”

Lance stared at her, wide-eyed for a moment. Pidge was already itching to get her hands on her laptop. Then he shook his head. “No. No, if he… if he doesn’t want to be found, then…. I want to respect that. He hasn’t even contacted Shiro. He doesn’t want us finding him. I just gotta move on. Thank you though, Pidge.”

She nodded and wrapped an arm around him. “We love you, Loverboy.”

“Oh my God,” Lance groaned.

Hunk laughed and opened the door for them to head back inside. Sophie was already half asleep on the couch and Matt was making himself another hot dog. Ana and Sam were crying about something and talking over each other in high pitched voices and hugging.

Pidge helped get Sophie to her bed. Ana and Sam decided to share Ana’s so Lance could sleep in Sam’s. Matt would sleep on the couch. Hunk, of course, would sleep with Pidge.

They cleaned up a bit, mostly getting trash into bags and dishes loaded into the dishwasher, before they split up for some much needed rest before they caught their plane the next day. Lance was in charge of making sure everything on the U-Haul made it to Vegas, but he wouldn’t be going with them to Vegas. Then Pidge would settle in at Matt’s and start her normal adult life.

But in that moment, with everyone settled into their sleeping arrangement, it felt like their old sleepovers. Pidge, Lance, and Hunk stayed up a little later, laughing and whispering in the dark. It wasn’t until their voices became heavy with a need for sleep that they let the conversation die out and each succumbed to sleep.

---

Within the next day, Pidge had moved across the country. She didn’t have a lot of her stuff yet other than the luggage she managed to load on the plane. It would be another handful of days before her stuff arrived. The jetlag was so bad, Pidge immediately fell asleep even though it was only seven thirty when she arrived. Hunk stayed because he was pretty exhausted too, and Matt didn’t even make it to the bed- he just turned on the TV and immediately knocked out on the couch.

Even so, Pidge didn’t fully wake up until a little past noon the following day. Hunk was scrolling through his phone when she opened her eyes, one hand idly stroking her hair.

“Hey,” she mumbled, burrowing her face into his chest. “What are you doing?”

“Reading up on news,” he answered. “How’d you sleep?”

“I slept to the point where I’m exhausted, and my body hurts,” she said with a light laugh. “I’m starving.”

“I can make food.” Hunk kissed her forehead lightly and got out of bed. Pidge watched him go and smiled to herself. She couldn’t believe she’d get to have more mornings like this.

She pulled herself out of bed and cleaned herself up a bit before heading out to the kitchen. By the time Hunk finished cooking, even Matt had been lured out of his room.

It was nice to eat with them without the constant reminder that she’d have to leave soon. She was home now. For good.

---

By the next weekend she was home, her stuff had arrived and Hunk helped her decorate and arrange her room. To celebrate the official end of moving in, Hunk arranged a date night at his place.

When they arrived at his apartment, Hunk covered her eyes before unlocking the door. “Has your place been set up all day?” Pidge asked, biting back her smile.

“Honeybee, I've had this planned since you booked your flight home.” Pidge laughed and let him lead her inside. “Okay, ready?” She nodded and Hunk uncovered her eyes. “Open.”

She opened her eyes and felt her heartbeat stutter at the sight of flower petals leading to the living room where the furniture had been pushed away to make way for a blanket. The lamps were on their lowest setting, filling the place with a soft light. By the time she turned to face Hunk, he'd gotten a hold of a basket that looked like it had been plucked right out of a movie.

“Oh my God….”

Hunk smiled and shrugged. “You always said you wanted a date like in the movies. It's no park, but I figured-”

“It's perfect. I love it,” she said with a laugh that bubbled up from her chest and pushed her to wrap her arms around Hunk. “I love you.”

Hunk smiled in a way that made her heart melt. In a way that made her feel like the most important person in the universe.

He took her hand and led her to the living room. They sat down and Hunk pulled out the food he'd prepared. Pidge couldn't help but laugh when he pulled out her favorite picnic food- peanut butter banana sandwiches with the crust cut off. He pulled out Capri-Suns and pudding cups. Pidge had to hide her face because she was blushing and smiling so much.

It really was perfect.

Hunk played music on a speaker. Soft love songs that faded into the background as they talked and ate, but Pidge noticed a couple of songs that she had mentioned she loved in passing.

“Stay still, you have pudding on your face,” Pidge said, reaching forward to wipe at Hunk's cheek.

Hunk grabbed her hand and tilted his face against it. He pressed a kiss to her palm and pulled her closer.

“You're breathtaking, you know that?” Pidge felt herself blush to the tips of her ears and Hunk chuckled. “I could spend every day of forever counting every freckle on your face and every speck of green in your eyes.”

Pidge bit her lip and touched his face with her free hand. “You know… if you really think about it… that would be very creepy.”

Hunk's bellowing laughter filled the room. Then he cupped her face and kissed her through his smile “Pidge, my sweet honeysuckle, you are the epitome of romance.”

She shrugged and smirked at him. “What can I say? I'm a natural.”

Hunk brushed his nose against hers in a slow eskimo kiss. “So how have you enjoyed your first week as an official Vegas resident?”

Pidge took a breath and let it out with a hum. “Let's see. I spent the first day mostly cuddling with you. I haven't had any tests or homework to worry about. I've binged TV with Matt and spent the night with you.” She nodded. “Yeah. Pretty awesome first week.” Hunk laughed and brushed her hair back. “Kiss me.”

He didn't have to be told twice. He cupped her face with his wide hands, keeping her safe and loved between them. His mouth was soft and moved slowly against hers until Pidge had fully relaxed against him.

She shifted to sit in his lap, her legs bent on either side of him. She felt his thumb slide along her cheek, then along her jawline, then down the side of her throat. She hummed against his lips and took a sharp breath when he pulled away from her in favor of tilting her head and kissing her neck.

He froze and rubbed soothing circles into her hip. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathed.

Hunk's lips pressed against her skin and Pidge let her mouth fall open at the sensation of heat that bolted through her. This was so new, it was so new.

She'd been with Hunk for months now, had spent the night with him several times, but the most that had come of it were heavy makeout sessions that they both had to feel back from. Whether it was because they both had a level of apprehension for anything more or because neither of them wanted to do much more if Pidge would be leaving, or if it was something else entirely, she wasn't sure.

She just knew that this was a new side of Hunk she didn't know. Though not entirely. Because even as his hands roamed her body, they stayed at her back, or along her waist, or down the side of her leg. Even with her breaths turning shallow, and the small whimpers of surprise she let out in his ear, he stayed on safe areas of her body.

Then she felt the way he sucked against her skin, the way her skin sparked when his teeth grazed it, and she gasped. She shoved her hands into his hair, keeping him in place, her hips moving of their own accord against him.

He moaned and pulled back, his forehead resting on her shoulder as their breaths tried to even out.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “No, it's okay, love. I just… just don't want to get too carried away.”

“Is that for yourself or for me?”

Hunk brushed his nose against hers. “You. I know… I know you said you haven't done anything. And you went through some shitty people….” He touched her face lightly and twirled a strand of hair that fell forward around his finger. “It's not something I want to trigger or rush or-”

Pidge leaned in to kiss him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled back and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “I trust you. I feel safe with you.” She pulled away to look him in the eyes. “Ever since I got back on Earth, I haven't felt safe around any guys. Especially after what happened in my friend's dorm…. But with Lance and Matt, I feel okay. And with you?” She grabbed his hands and intertwined them with hers. “I feel so safe with you. I don't feel afraid of anything when I'm with you.” She kissed his hands and rested her cheek against one. “I know you'd never hurt me.”

Hunk smiled at her and kissed her again. “Well if it's alright with you… I don't really want to do this on my living room floor.” Pidge laughed and nodded in agreement.

She stood up so he could stand too. Then he scooped her up in his arms, making her shriek and laugh as she clung to him.

He carried her to the bedroom and laid her slowly on the bed. Pidge's heart was pounding with what the night had decided to surprise her with. She didn't believe in the whole concept of her worth laying in her virginity. She'd never been religious enough to identify with that. But that didn't mean it wasn't important.

Sex was something intimate and vulnerable to her. She wanted her first time to matter and of course she wanted it to be special. She was still nervous, though. Hunk was her best friend. She loved him with all her heart. He knew her better than anyone. But everything would still be new, and not knowing what to expect… that scared her.

Hunk had returned to kissing her. A kiss not unlike all their other kisses when they were alone. Slow. Gentle. Soothing.

One hand held him up, the other rubbed soothing circles against her side, over her shirt.

Pidge took his hand and led him under her shirt, letting his hand splay across her stomach. He traced his fingertips there, not quite tickling, but still lightly enough to give her goosebumps. His breaths turned shallow.

He kissed her neck again and this time Pidge arched up into him. Heat pooled in her stomach, between her legs, and she felt her heart pound louder in her ears. His hand trailed up just under her bra and he hesitated.

“Okay?” he asked with a shaky voice. She nodded and his finger traced the top edges of the cup. Skin she had never let anyone touch. She shivered, her breaths trembling as her toes curled.

Her shirt was hiked up as far as it could go, but oddly enough she didn't feel as self-conscious as she thought she would. Her skin was pale, with obvious tan lines with the recent spring and summer sun. Freckles everywhere. Her stomach wasn't flat no matter how often she told herself she'd start working out again. And then the scars. Long, white, jagged lines that had faded only slightly over time.

Hunk's knee nudged her legs apart and she gasped when he settled himself between them. He was breathing heavily a sound that was loud over the hammering of her heart in the quiet room. Pidge was grateful for the slowness of it all. He pulled his hand away to settle on the mattress and burrowed his face against her shoulder. His beard tickled, but before Pidge could comment, he scooped his arms around her and she realized he was shaking.

She stilled and moved her hands to his face, insisting on getting him to look at her.

“Hey, what is it?”

“Nothing,” he whispered. But she recognized that look in his eyes. That distant look like he wasn't fully there, the furrow of his eyebrows. His lower lip trembled and his breaths hadn't slowed down. “I'm okay.”

“Hunk. We can stop. You can tell me if you want to stop.”

He sighed and settled over her, his arms around her, holding her between himself and the bed. He rested his head on her chest and she settled for running her fingers through his hair.

She could still feel the slight tremors of his body. His voice was small when he spoke. “But it's you. I love you, and-”

“And we don't need to do this for me to believe that. I know you love me. And you always make me feel loved. But you've had your own bad history with this, and I understand if you want to wait more. Besides, I was kind of nervous too.” She ran her fingers along his tattooed arm and smiled. “We've got time. We're not in a war that's gonna put us in danger. I'm not on the other side of the country anymore.”

He turned to bury his face in her chest. She was flat enough that it was still a chaste gesture, and for once, she didn't feel so self-conscious about small boobs. He didn’t speak again until he’d stopped hyperventilating.

“I love you,” he said, muffled by her bunched up shirt. “But… I think I do need to stop.”

“Okay,” she said. “I love you too.” She followed the swirl of black ink in his skin. “Can you tell me about your tattoos again?”

Hunk shifted to lay beside her. She took the chance to pull her shirt back down and rolled onto her side to face him as his arm pulled her closer.

Hunk began to tell her the stories behind the tattoo sleeve he had. The swirl of flames, ocean waves, tumultuous clouds, earthly rocks, and leafy vines. The lion paw. The arrows, the intricate lines of patterns that derived from Samoan designs. He told her about going into the shop for several sessions, slowly piecing the puzzle together. How he hoped to fill his whole arm one day, maybe his back too, so it could tell his life story.

“You wanna be your own body quilt?” she asked, slightly amused.

“Why not? I could add how we came back to each other. Finding Lance. Seeing Shiro again.” He shrugged and leaned in to kiss the top of her head. “I always said that if I ever had kids, I’d add their handprints or something. Document the milestones.”

“Don’t they hurt?”

Hunk smirked. “You want one?” Pidge winced and smiled. “It depends. These didn’t hurt much. Felt like a pinch or a scrape. I mean, honestly, compared to some stuff we went through with Voltron? Not too bad.” He traced a finger over Pidge’s arm, connecting the freckles with his finger. “You already have art on your body.”

“My freckles?” she asked with a disbelieving laugh. “I mean… I don’t hate them, but they’re not art.”

“They’re like stars. You’ve got constellations all over you. You’re a galaxy, honeybee.” Her ran a finger over one of her scars which ran from her elbow to the back of her forearm. “Complete with shooting stars and meteors.”

She chuckled and poked the top of his nose. “I think you’re the only one who sees it that way, love.”

He shrugged. “More for me to admire then. I’ve traveled the universe, but I’ve got a whole other universe right here in you.” Pidge felt her heart swell and her cheeks burned. It was so easy to believe him when he looked at her that way.

“I love you,” she whispered, putting all of her adoration and love and fascination into those three syllables.

The smile that spread on his face was slow and sleepy, but warm and full of joy. “My heart is yours,” he answered. Pidge’s lips parted in surprise. Her heartbeat fluttered and every part of her relaxed further to curl into him.

Their breaths slowed as they started to fall asleep. Pidge had a fleeting thought of how lucky she was to have fallen in love with someone who love her without inhibitions and did everything to make sure she never forgot or doubted it. Hunk loved her for who she was, and he had since they were young. Pidge never had to hide anything from him, never had to shy away or cover her body or quell her quirks. Hunk knew all of it. Loved all of her.

It was more than she ever dreamed of experiencing.

[myhero-myfanfic]

Hi! I’m in the mood for something angsty. So may I have a scenario with Toshinori Yagi and his fem!s/o with a happy ending based on this prompt - “

You become a writer and your series of novels become extremely popular, but what they don’t know is that you’re retelling your previous life where certain circumstances made it so you and your soulmate did not end up together but your soulmate promises to be with you the next lifetime. At a book signing you open the book cover of a fan’s copy to see something written on the front page: “I’m sorry I took so long.” 

Thank you <3

Sorry I had to send this through the submit box. The prompt was super long XD

For @todorokishochan!

This, uh… This got away from me. This is so much longer than it was supposed to be, but I honestly love this prompt. Hope you like it!

Italic parts are excerpts from the books (your past life) you wrote in this scenario!

The worst part about these signings had to be faking a smile the whole time. After this many books and this many meet-and-greets, you had all your cute and clever responses memorized. No question surprised you after years of doing this. It was the same repetitive conversation in same shabbily decorated book shops in the same small towns with the same hopeful, lovesick readers you had always had. Maybe you were cynical, but how could you not be? The books they fed on so greedily weren’t fiction- they were a reminder of your own loss. The soulmate you had known yet had to have.

Every day you searched online for others who remembered past lives with their soulmates, but you had yet to find a single other person. It seemed, for some reason, you had been cursed with knowing exactly what you had lost in your old life and had to know it alone.

When the men came to work on the west wing of the house, I made sure to keep mostly to my room. Mother had chastised me for trying to sneak a glance at the strangers as they began filtering in. She warned me that these men were ill-mannered, boorish, and undeserving of my time and attention. Considering their low status, it would be unbecoming for me to even speak to one of them. I did not believe a word of what she said, but I knew better than to fight against her.

It was an act of fate then, the day I ran into him. Even though I was taught to keep my eyes averted at all times, I couldn’t help but glance up at his face and the rest of the world just fell away. Mother’s prejudices were the last things on my mind when I looked into his blue, blue eyes and beheld his beautiful smile for the first time. I had finally found my soul mate, Toshinori Yagi.

“Where do you get your inspiration? Your site doesn’t say anything about you having a soulmate, but you write about it so… I mean, it feels so real!”

The first person to ask a question is very young and a bit too blunt for your taste, but you had also heard this question plenty of times before. Your publishing company had chosen to use that as a gimmick years ago- “the woman who has never loved or been loved, yet writes as if love itself is her lover!” You give her a regurgitated response about how you think about all the loving mated couples you had ever met and how they were your inspiration.

Except no one else could ever inspire you like he did. Like he still does. You had loved more than anyone else ever had.

We knew it was an awful idea, but we continued meeting in secret whenever we got the chance. My parents had to come around eventually- a soulmate is a soulmate. I would never belong to anyone else but him.

“My love…” He murmurs, pressing the back of my hand against his face. Long blonde strands brush my knuckles and I can’t help but shiver at the sensation. He’s so overwhelmingly beautiful as he gazes at me with pure adoration in those blue, blue eyes, and for a moment I am overcome with emotion. I don’t have to say a word- he’s already there, pulling me into an embrace that is everything but appropriate and whispering sweet words that float through the air like petals in the wind.

This is where I belong. Right here, with this man, drowning in his love for the rest of eternity…

“Why did you choose the ending you did?” This fan is older, with a slightly annoyed expression. “It’s so sad… I feel like no one would actually keep soulmates apart like that.”

You can’t help the deep intake of air, even though you’ve heard this before too. People need the happy ending, no matter what.

“Actually, it wasn’t uncommon for soulmates to be ignored if the girl’s parents found a more fitting suitor.” You somehow manage to keep most of the bitterness out of your voice.

“Please don’t do this father…” My tears had long since dried up. All that remained was a dry, empty desperation that bled through my words.

“It’s already done child. It is time to stop this game.” He turned to the love of my life, who was covered in bruises and barely had the strength to stand up on his own anymore. His blue, blue eyes were swollen shut and hidden away from me. “Leave and do not come back. This is done. You’ve disgraced my daughter enough.”

I cried out as my father’s friends dragged him out. He managed a single hoarse cry of my name before one of the men kicked him in the stomach. I felt the bile rise to my throat as I looked up at father and saw the lack of hope or love or regret. My soul had been sold by this devil, and not to its proper partner.

“What’s your name?” You smiled up at the young boy before you. He looked no older than fifteen, and seemed incredibly embarrassed to be getting your signature.

“Izuku…” He practically mumbled, and you chuckled quietly before writing him a little note. You added a heart to hopefully soothe his nerves, but that seemed to just worsen his blush.

He thanked you several times and went to walk away, but turned back the last second.

“You’re gonna find your soulmate, you know!” You blinked up at him, surprised by his little outburst.

“You’ll find him, and fall in love, because anybody who writes like this deserves it!” He stares at you intensely for a moment before seeming to remember himself, practically falling over as he runs away. Staring after him, you can’t help but compare his attitude to Toshinori’s. They would get along beautifully…

The fever took me quickly. My new husband- oh, how I hate the word - had called many doctors but no one had been able to help. We both knew the end was coming, and fast. Word traveled fast around the town and just like that, Toshi was back for me.

“I need to see her.”

“No, you need to leave.”

I could barely hear their voices through the thick fog invading my mind. I wanted to cry out to him, beg for my husband to let him in, but I had no strength left in me to give.

Suddenly, I hear a yell and a few loud clatters that echo through the house before the door to my chambers is thrown open and shut again. Then his hands are on me, cupping my face and brushing away my hair, holding me just as desperately as he did that night we stowed away in the abandoned wagon.

“Please no, no no… I can’t lose you.” I can feel his tears dripping onto my cheeks, and I’m so happy and devastated when I manage to open my eyes just a fraction. I can see those blue, blue eyes once more- the same lovely shade as a cloudless summer day and just as clear. I know in my heart that this will be the last time I see them, and he must know it as well as he moves to my side to pull my limp form close to his body.

“I’ll fix this, you hear me? We’ll meet again next time, somehow, and nothing will be able to keep me from you, my love.”

My last smile belongs to him, because I believed him with all my heart and soul.

The signing is thankfully almost over, just one person left in your line. They’re tall, with a hood covering most of their face and a very worn out copy of your book in their hands. Their long fingers brush yours when he hands it to you, and you can’t help but tense up at the shock it sends up your spine.

“What’s your name?” Robotically, you flip it open to the first page and move to sign your name, but a small note stops you in your tracks. It’s written in familiar chicken scratch, slightly smeared as if the writer had been crying at the time.

I’m sorry I took so long, my love.

And when you look up, disbelieving because there’s just no way- you’re staring into blue, blue eyes as he removes his hood. You can’t help but stare at him and drink him in.

“I…” You can’t get a word out as tears begin to well up in your eyes. He whispers your name and tries to smile but then he’s crying too.

“I told you I’d fix it. I told you we would be together.”

And with that you’re choking on your sobs and scrambling over the table to launch yourself at him. Yanking you forward, Toshinori pulls you into him and bends down to press his lips against yours, lips that fit just perfectly over yours because this is meant to be.

Pressing your forehead against his, you stare into his eyes as you breathe each other in. Your hands come up to stroke his jaw- he seems so thin this time around- and you press a kiss against his nose.

“Is this real?” The question slips out before you can help it. As always, he knows what you need before you do. Taking your hand, he presses it against his chest so you can feel his heart beating. The same heart beat that had lulled you to sleep so many times before, long ago.

“It’s real, my love. And I promise we’ll never be apart again.”