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chocominnie · 3 years

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One Last Time — 05

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00 01 02

⇢ Word Count : 3k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

The scent of vanilla with a hint of cinnamon is what wakes you up from your sleep. Hair and body tangled in-between the blankets, which lets you know you you had tossed and turned once again. The frizzball on your head is definitely going to be a challenge to work with. Stretching your limbs, you let out a small yawn only for your hands to drop back down and feel nothing but cold emptiness.

Was it a dream? Dream? You didn’t even have one of your night terrors for the first time in a year. The dream to you seemed rather pleasent. Jimin tangled up in your arms as he holds you tight while you breathe into his bare chest. The warmness is something you had longed for once again and it all felt surreal.

‘‘ You awake yet?’‘

The voice startles you, making you drop your phone onto the comforter and turn your head towards the bedroom door where it came from. His blonde hair and small smile peep through the door, hoping to atleast get a better reaction out of you.

So it is real.

“ You’re really here? Did I bump my head too hard to where im imagining things?” You pull the covers close to you for security. Just as in your dream, there he is barechest and all.

He lets out a squeaky laugh followed by a smile as he comes towards your bed, tapping them to give you a signal to open. You raise an eyebrow but oblige, spreading them a bit only for him to sit inbetween them. It feels as if you’re heart might explode with the sudden flirtacious moves from him. Something you have been wanting but still aren’t used to.

‘‘ You slept so good that you don’t remember last night?”

You look at him eyes wide and then down to your body, “ Please tell me we didn’t-’’

‘‘ As much as I would of love to, No.’‘

A shot of relief flows through you but sadness soon comes over. He isn’t yours to be thinking these sorts of things. He isn’t yours in general. It wouldn’t be right for him to say things like that to you, while still entangled with another female.

‘‘ Why so sad?” His hands comes to your face to caress your cheeks. You shake your head softly then grab his hand to slowly lower it back down.

Jimin sighs, “ Baby just tell me whats wrong.’’

That word. That word you know always messes things up with your thoughts. Your emotions, hell everything in your body too.

You slowly make your way off of the bed, not interested in the conversation anymore. It’s not like you don’t want to continue, you do, but the guilt of everything that comes with it is enough to stir you away.

‘‘ Jimin don’t use that word. You technically still belong to Isabel.”

‘‘ Is she here at this very moment?” He cocks his head to the side with a smirk. You roll your eyes in response to his cockiness.

‘‘ No. That doesn’t change the fa-”

‘‘ Alright then. Now are you going to tell me what’s really on your mind or do I have to force it out?” He raises his hands and scrunches them with grabby motions. You don’t fall for it though.

You make your way to the doorway, “ That’s all Jimin. I promise. Just call me by my real name okay?’’

But that’s not what you want. What you want you know you can’t have. It’s not because you can’t have it because you want too. It’s just that it would make you feel like a terrible, horrible person. The look on his face when you say those words almost make you give in. Those puppy eyes caught yours and for a split second you almost consider it but don’t. It’s hard for you, it really is. Having something dangling in your face but you’re too concious to have it.

He’s still not yours.

With the morning being spent eating a good breakfast Jimin made your favorite pancakes. You watched him carefully, the way his hair bobbed up and down a bit while his right arm whisked the batter quickly. He seemed so natural and comfortable as if he was used to doing this for you. With your elbows on the island counter and head in your hands while you’re seated, you can’t help yourself to stare at the back of him and let the memories float in your mind.

Memories that never fade from you. It’s cute of him to steal glances of you here and there when pouring the batter into the pan. The small winks he gives you makes your heart flutter and the blood rush to your cheeks. It feels rather good to you to have his presence here. Despite the guilty feeling in the pit of your stomach.

The rest of the day you two decide to lounge around. Endless movies and tv shows throughout the day as you’re cuddled up next to him with a pink colored blanket for the two of you to share. Clara seems to enjoy her time with him too since she won’t let him put her down. She meows loudly with every movement of him. Such a drama queen.

‘‘ Jimin it’s getting late..” You pause, looking up at him. He gives you a small frown when he sits up in hopes you won’t finish your sentence. “ She might begin to worry you’re not home yet.”

Jimin ignores your comment only to latch onto your body a little more rougher, arms not wanting to let go. You giggle before running your fingers through his hair as his head lays softly onto your chest. You wan’t him to leave mentally, but your body wants to hold on to him for way much longer.

‘‘ Your heartbeat is soothing to me.”

It always has been. Anytime he just wanted to talk when you were in a relationship, he would lay you down and then lay himself on you with his ear pressed against your chest. Some days he would have been happy to talk, others, he just wanted to lay there to fall asleep.

‘‘ Seriously Jimin. You should leave.”

He shakes his head, ‘’ Shhh. Jungkook is coming soon and I would love to sit here and have you to myself.’’

You raise an eyebrow is confusion, “ Why is he coming here?’’

‘‘ I kind of sort of lost my keys to my home. Isabel came yesterday to give the copy’s she went and made when we were at Ryan’s office. I left the house key with Jungkook while going after you instead of putting it on my keychain right away.”

So that explains why she came. It also would of been better to have touch pad, or even facial recognition to enter the home. Anyone can just copy the key to your home. The fans are already crazy enough after that time you two saw one trying to follow you into your used-to-be shared apartment. It didn’t end so well either.

“ Why don’t you have touch-pad?” You say, sitting up with a disappointed look.

‘‘ Funny story. When the house was made I thought keys would be better than touch-pad on the outside because any paparazzi who manages to get through the front could snap pictures of the code. So why not use a key right?’‘

You just sigh and shake your head in disappointment, not even wanting to explain why that would still be a dumb idea. “ Whatever makes you happy.”

‘‘ But if you were there you would of stopped me.. right?”

Your eyes shoot down to him only to see him staring right back up into yours. The butterflies in your stomach begin to flutter once more. It’s been so long since you felt those.

‘‘ Yes. Yes I would have told you it was a dumb option because nobody can make it past security without calling you first.’‘ You whisper, both of your faces inches away from each other.

‘‘ I thought so. Can I make another dumb suggestion?’‘ His voice says, faint enough for you to hear making the hairs stick up on your neck.

You swallow slowly as chills run down your spine out of anxiety, ‘‘ What?’‘

‘‘ This.’‘

It all feels surreal to you. His lips against yours moving in sync together it’s all just surreal. Within seconds his tongue is swiping against your lips begging for entrance in which you comply. The way his hands rub up and down your thighs is sure to make you moan against the kiss, grabbing them to lead it to your core. He obliges and traces the outline of it outside of your clothing, laying you down gently on the couch in the process.

Until that painful doorbell rings loudly causing you both to groan. Jimin pulls away with a plop noise and give you a wink before lifting off of you to go see who is at the door. Your clothes are ruffled up a bit and that small wet spot between your legs seems to not too noticeable when you fix yourself up quickly.

Sex with Jimin. You almost had sex with Jimin. You feel wrong about it but at the same time you want nothing more to have him make you a screaming moaning mess. You miss him, the way his stroke game is, and everything about him dominating you in the bedroom.

He’s still not yours though.

‘‘ Who is it?’‘

You sit up and fix your hair to at-least look presentable. That kiss meant everything to you. Your feelings and body enjoyed it but your mind did not. It slipped your mind that you should of pulled away. Nothing can replace how it felt to have his lips on yours again.

The door opens revealing Jungkook who’s face is a little red and breathing hard. He runs inside and shoves Jimin out the way before slamming the door shut and locking it with his back against the wall. You furrow your eyebrows and get up from the spot you’re sitting in.

‘‘ Jungkook what’s happening? Why are you run-”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

‘‘ Open the door now! I know you guys are in there! Jimin get your ass out here now!’’

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Your eyes go wide. That voice. That oh so familiar voice is standing right outside your apartment door.

‘‘ I tried telling her you went to practice with Seokjin for some new choreography but she knew I lied. Im sorry I tried to run as fast as I could to my car to get away from her. She followed me here in her car and then I had to run some more up to your apartment.’‘ He breathes hard, handing the new set of keys to Jimin.

Shit! You have no words to say. This wouldn’t of all started if you wouldn’t have been so stubborn yesterday to just take a taxi. You wouldn’t of passed out, he wouldn’t have been here with you all day today.

That doesn’t excuse the fact that this girl is batshit crazy for following Jungkook and showing up at your actual fucking apartment. Jimin looks at you with sorriness in his eyes. You look at him with anger and cross your arms to prove your point as to why he should have left in the first place.

‘‘ Im going outside to talk to her. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Jimin’s hand pushes down the handle to the door and as soon as he cracks it open, the force of the door pushes open harshly hitting the wall next to it, making him stumble back a little.

‘‘ So you think it is okay to go to your exes apartment? I would never disrespect you like that Jimin, you know that!” Rage has taken upon her, face red and it doesn’t already help that her facial expression is beyond pissed.

Slap!

You watch in horror as her hand connects with his left cheek. Jungkook’s eyes go wide, but then frown into anger before walking over to her. Stomping with each step he takes.

“ Watch what your fucking doing okay? That’s my brother and I certainly do not hit girls but with one click of a button Ryan will be on her way to beat your ass got it?’’

‘‘ Jungkook stay out of this! This isn’t your battle. Now you, you have some nerve letting him inside here. Obviously you were not enough for him to go cheating on you.” Isabel says, stepping away from Jimin and leaving him there at the door.

That one hurt. She does have a point though, you should of made Jimin leave regardless of what he said to you. You got caught up in the moments that weren’t meant to be yours. Its true, she has every right to be mad.

‘‘ I don’t appreciate you being around Jimin..” She inches closer to you, hands on her hips. You begin to back up, eyes to the ground of guilt. If only things wouldn’t have unfolded like this.

‘‘ Your relationship to him is starting to be inapropriate.” Isabel’s eyes make contact with yours when you look up. She looks at you as if you’re disgusting, and you can’t blame her.

‘‘ Isabel..’‘ Jimin warns, coming behind her.

On the heel of her feet, she turns around shaking her head. “You don’t deserve to talk. You care so much about her, but did you forget we are a couple? We may just be cooling things off between us, but you are still mine as I am to you.’‘

Jimin sighs, stopping just behind her, ‘‘ Isabel look..”

“ Jimin..” Jungkook starts, uneasy of what his brother is to say next. You know what’s coming and you know that tone of Jimin’s voice all too well.

The same one he used when breaking up with you. You see the tears well in her eyes. Some part of you feels bad for her because you know those words well. You know that feeling all too good.

‘‘ Are you really breaking up with me because of her? We were doing just fine until she showed back up in the picture. Are you seriously doing this?” Her voice cracks on the last words. That made your heart sting a bit. This isn’t right.

Jimin sighs looking at the two of you back and forth. You are the one for him, it’s no doubt. It was a stupid choice for him to cheat on you. It was a stupid choice for him to leave you in the dust like that. You gave him everything. A loving relationship, a home, happiness, you are the highlight of his days. He misses you just as much as you miss him.

“ Isabel we are through. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man to your expectations. It’s my fault. All my fault and I shouldn’t have let you belie-”

“ Fuck you. Fuck you Park Jimin.” Her words slice through the air, piercing Jimin right in his heart. It hurt for him to hear that, but he deserves it.

Jungkook doesn’t look so shocked, but he does wish Jimin would have did this else-where other than your apartment. Isabel looks at you with envy, reaching into her small chanel bag for something. Jungkook gives her a warning look to just leave before grabbing your arm to make you stand behind him.

“ Isabel I’ll walk you down. It’s best to just leave it be. Please.” Jimin begs from behind her. You watch the tears roll down her eyes and you still can’t help but to feel guilty.

You are the cause of their breakup. Maybe you really should have minded your business about Jimin. Maybe you shouldn’t have entertained his charming ways at all. Looking back down at her hands, you see a small pocket knife she grips tightly. You tap Jungkook and point which makes him push you behind him even more.

“ It’s a bad idea. You can hurt me but you wont hurt my brother or her.” He says, daring her to make any type of movement towards you.

Jimin comes behind her and attempts to grab the knife in which she slashes his palm on accident trying to push him away. In that quick second, Jimin hisses in pain while pulling away giving Isabel all the time she has to get to you while Jungkook is already across the room for his brother, forgetting you hiding behind him.

‘‘ Shit! Jimin are you okay?” He asks, but then quickly turns to you, “ Quick! Go hide! Hurry! “ Jungkook screams.

‘‘ Isabel this isn’t what he wants. He wants you to be happy and getting back at me will only upset him more!” As if your words would even convince the crazy girl in the slightest.

She just laughs as your words, fastly walking to you who’s, running towards the living area thinking it would cut time shorter if you cut through there to your bathroom.

You aren’t fast enough. She tackles you to the ground where you two rumble around trying to get away from her until she putting all her weight on you as she sits directly on your chest making it hard for you to breathe.

“ Maybe a little mark on your face will tell you to stop home-wrecking people’s relationship.” She raises the knife up high and you watch in horror before she raises it back to in attempt to make a slash on your forehead.

You block each attempt at her trying to slash anything on your face. Your dad always told you to protect your face in self defense and fighting and thats what you do. Only until with one last thrush, the knife connects with your forearm, making a nice sized gash on it.

‘‘ Fuck!”

The voices in your area fade in and out. You look to your left to see Isabel being dragged out by a pair of cops. But the puddle of blood forming around you rapidly sends you into panic. Only you cant panic. You cant speak. Your vision is slowly loosing faith in you.

Open.

Close.

Open.

Close.

Open.

Cl-

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sydneywritespursuedbyabear · 3 years

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Not-So-Sweet Treat

Me? Posting content twice in one week? It's about as unlikely as you'd think, but I just finished a bunch of stuff so I had free time, and here we are.

So this idea came to me in a dream a while ago. I started to work on it, but then I got into the international science and engineering fair, so I had other things I needed to focus on. Anyway, the story. It's an RSS story about, well, I am not going to spoil it.

Trigger Warnings -- also tagged: ambulances, attempted kidnapping

WC: 1434

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Maria climbed out of her Uber, slamming the blue car door as she stepped onto the sidewalk. She opened a text to Chaia and typed a puppy emoji, their code for a safe arrival. As she stumbled over the curb, Maria switched her phone off before she could hit send.

On a frosted glass window, burgundy letters spelled out “The Cinnamon Room.” At the door, Maria was greeted by two men in white aprons.

The red-haired man on the right stuck out his hand. “Gideon. Nice to meet you. This is Chase.” Gideon motioned to the black-haired man standing to his right.

“Maria. I hope I’m not too late for the class.” There’d been more traffic than Maria was expecting. She was about 6 minutes late.

“Actually,” Chase said, “you’re the first to show up.” He and Gideon cleared the doorway to allow Maria into the bakery. Cookies, danishes, rugelach, muffins, and pastries galore lined a display cabinet in front of the kitchen. To the right of the counter, a long hallway stretched to the back of the shop, connecting the front kitchen to the back ovens and pantry. Chase unlocked the gate to the back and showed Maria to a station in the kitchen.

“We need to grab some ingredients from the back. We will be right with you.” Chase started down the long hallway, and Gideon quickly followed suit.

Upon their return, Gideon and Chase were not carrying as many ingredients as Maria had anticipated. Each only carried a couple sticks of butter in one hand. What was in their other hands was more curious. Gideon and Chase both held a gas mask in their non-butter hand.

Maria, however, did not notice the masks. After seeing the butter, she simply turned around and began to wash her hands in preparation for the baking ahead. She didn’t notice as Gideon and Chase pulled the gas masks over their faces or when Gideon kicked a bright red switch under a cabinet. By the time she had finished washing her hands, Maria was too loopy to notice that Gideon and Chase were dragging her down the hall to a sealed closet.

Chase dragged Maria’s practically limp body onto a pile of hay while Gideon released the valve on a gas canister in the back corner of the room. “That should do it,” Gideon said, slamming the door as he exited the closet.

Back in the closet, Maria’s phone vibrated in her pocket as it received a text from Chaia. With an unsent message, it could only return a bubble with three dots. Moments later, the phone cried out a klezmer tune as Chaia called. Maria could not respond, so the phone just rang. And rang. And rang. And rang.

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Thirty minutes later, Maria still hadn’t picked up the phone. Or answered Chaia’s texts. Or even read Chaia’s texts. Chaia dialed her wife’s number into her cell phone again. On speaker, the phone rang. After three unanswered rings, she shifted her attention to the landline on the other side of her computer; Maria always picked up by the third ring. Chaia called 911.

Victor’s headset beeped to indicate the incoming call. He clicked on the large “ANSWER CALL” button in the middle of his screen. “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

“My wife took a pastry workshop at this bakery on Appleton and she isn’t answering her phone. I think something has happened. She has complex medical needs and-”

“Chaia, it’s Victor, take a deep breath with me.” Victor inhaled and exhaled forcefully, being sure to be loud enough for Chaia to hear through the phone. “This isn’t your cell number; where is your phone?”

“It’s right next to me. I’m still trying to reach Maria.” Chaia replied, a slight twinge of panic rising through her voice.

“Okay. I need you to do two things for me. First, I need the name of the bakery she went to.”

“The Cinnamon Room.”

“Okay. I am dispatching police, but they’re a bit busy with the protests downtown today. Do you have Kai’s number? He should be able to get down there pretty quickly and start to investigate.”

“Yes. I can call him.”

“Okay. Do you want me to stay on the line with you? They’ve just diverted all available units to crowd control at the protests. It might be a while to get the police.”

“I think I’ve got it from here. I’m heading down there right now. I’ll text with any updates.”

“Okay. I will keep you updated as well. Bye.” Victor terminates the call.

Five minutes later, Chaia’s phone buzzes with a text from Kai. “Frontman at the bakery says Maria went to grab a coffee. Heading down to Hazel Flower to check. Justin is staying at the ambo to monitor the door.”

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Kai parked the ambulance block down the street from The Cinnamon Room. He turned to his partner, Justin, and told him, “If I am not back in 30 minutes, get backup.” He hopped out and walked down the street.

He strolled up to a red-haired man in a white apron. “Hi, I’m Kai. My friend is here for a pastry class and I need to drop off something for her. Her name is Maria Glassman.”

The red-haired man paid no attention to Kai. “She went out to get a coffee down the street.”

The coffee shop down the street was empty, so Kai headed back. This time, there was no one behind the counter when he arrived. Sitting amidst floured rolling pins were 2 gas masks. He texted Victor, “They’ve got gas masks. Send cops.”

The red-haired man appeared from down the hall. “I see you’ve come back,” he sneered. He planted a punch in Kai’s face and dragged Kai down the hall to the storeroom. He slumped Kai right next to Maria.

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Chaia pulled up to the bakery, which was now surrounded by vehicles with flashing lights. She jumped out of her car and approached the first person in uniform she could find, which happened to be Justin. “Where’s my wife?” she asked.

Justin took a deep breath and made eye contact with Chaia. “You must be Chaia. My name is Justin. I work with Kai.” He offered Chaia his hand, which she begrudgingly shook. “The cops are still searching inside, but it may not be pretty. On the way over, Kai briefed me on your, uh, Maria’s situation. I think it prudent that you meet the other on-site EMS crew.” He led Chaia to the ambulance at the other end of the bakery facade. Motioning to the two paramedics leaning against the back of the ambulance, Justin said, “That’s Eaton and Sienna. I’ve filled them in.”

Chaia nodded at the pair. “Nice to meet you.”

Right then, a police officer ran out the door of the bakery. “I’ve found them! They’re gonna need oxygen.” The officer held the door as Justin, Sienna, and Eaton rushed in, bringing two stretchers and supplies into the bakery. Another officer grabbed Chaia’s arm to keep her outside.

“I need to see her!” Chaia cried, tears beginning to slide out of her eyes.

“You can see her when they bring her outside,” the officer told Chaia, shifting their hand from gripping Chaia’s forearm to holding her hand.

Kai was the first to be wheeled out of the bakery. He was semi-conscious. He could almost react to questions and occasionally twitch his face in response to the Oxygen cannula resting in his nostrils. He was brought out by only Eaton.

Justin and Sienna wheeled Maria out a minute later. Chaia couldn’t see the readings on the pulse oximeter but the ambu bag over Maria’s nose and mouth indicated that it couldn’t be good.

“Chaia, over here! Walk with me,” Justin called out.

Chaia joined him at her wife’s side.

“We’re about two to four minutes out from the hospital,” Justin told Chaia. “We’ve got two patients, two ambulances, and only three functional paramedics. Can you bag Maria until we get to the hospital?”

“You want me to be in charge of keeping my wife alive?”

“You are qualified and trained to do so.”

Chaia sniffled. “I--” “Chaia.” Justin locked eyes with Chaia.

She sighed. “Fine.” Chaia climbed into the back of the ambulance with Justin. Justin handed Chaia the blue bag mask and hopped out the back to run around to the driver's seat.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Chaia responded weakly. She took a deep breath as she squeezed the plastic bulb at the end of the bad mask and let it go to supplement her wife’s weak breaths.

#came to me in a dream #whump #kidnapping tw #ambulance tw #unconscious #two whumpees #hurt/comfort #rainbowsweatersquad #bakery whump #that is a thing right #it is now #medwhump #ish #attempted kidnappings #kidnapping whump #anesthetic gas #gas masks #unconscious whumpee

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justheretobreakthings · 4 years

Text

Arms Wide Open

Written for @gentronlegendaryfriendships

Day Four: Meeting the Family | Cultural Exchange

Word Count: 4,396 Characters: Keith, Shiro, the Holts Read on AO3 My house, my rules, my ko-fi

Story Summary:

The Holts are hosting a cookout for the members of the Kerberos team and their families. Shiro brings Keith along.

The Holt family’s backyard was bigger than Keith had expected. Sure, the house was near the edge of town, where homes started spreading out as the borders between city and countryside started to blur, but still. Maybe it was just because Matt was such an indoorsy guy, a computer geek with a habit of hibernating in his dorm, and Keith had just wound up assuming that the Holts didn’t have a whole lot of use for a big backyard. He hadn’t considered that the rest of the family may be more prone to going outside than Matt was.

Or perhaps just the fact that the yard was currently so crowded was making it look bigger. Shiro had told Keith that this cookout was for the Kerberos team and their guests, but Keith had assumed that just meant him and the Holts. The ground team had completely slipped his mind. There were dozens of people here; a couple were instructors at the Garrison’s academy, a few Keith vaguely recognized as either guest speakers or people he’d seen talking with Shiro, but most were strangers.

A nudge against his shoulder, from the seran-wrapped plate Shiro was balancing carefully in his hands, reminded him that he was standing frozen in the gateway, and he edged a little along the fence to let Shiro through. “You all right?” Shiro asked him.

“Uh-huh,” Keith said with a tentative nod. “Just, um, more people than I thought there’d be.”

“Ah, sorry about that. Well, you don’t need to talk to anyone you don’t want to talk to, okay? A lot of these people are stuffed-shirts anyway, don’t want that ruining your fun.” He grinned. “Just focus on the food, yeah? You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten one of Colleen Holt’s burgers. She’s a wizard on the grill.”

“Okay,” Keith said, taking a deep breath to prepare himself before following Shiro into the yard. The food did smell good, and the smell just improved as they made their way toward the food on display on folding tables against the wall of the house, all lined up for people to make their way down after getting their main course from the grill, which was currently being manned by a short-haired, slender woman Keith took a moment to recognize, since he’d only ever seen Colleen Holt before in a couple of photos on Shiro’s phone.

Shiro waved as they approached, giving her a smile. “I’m assuming you saved your very best burgers for me?” he asked as she turned toward them and returned his grin.

“Well, I was going to,” Colleen replied. “But you’re late. I ended up giving them away to some people who know how to stick to a schedule. I hope you’ve learned your lesson, young man.”

“Hey, I’ve had a busy week, needed to catch up on paperwork before getting here.”

“Mm-hm. And what paperwork would that be?”

“Not important.” He held out the plate in his arms. “I brought brownies. Does this make up for the tardiness?”

Colleen leaned in to examine the brownies. “Aw, Shiro,” she said, “You didn’t need to bring anything.”

“Oh, please, I’m happy to. Nothing like a good homemade brownie to finish off a good meal.”

Keith furrowed his brow. “They’re not homemade. You bought those.”

Shiro made an exaggerated grimace. “Well, a bakery is more like a home than most other businesses out there, so I’m still counting it.”

“But you got them at the supermarket.”

Shiro grimaced as Colleen laughed. “That’s okay, I could have guessed,” she said. “He’s not exactly known for skills in the kitchen. So, Shiro, planning on introducing me to your buddy here?”

“Right, of course,” Shiro said. “Keith, this is Colleen Holt - ”

“Doctor Colleen Holt,” she corrected him.

“Doctor Colleen Holt. Sam’s wife and Matt’s mom. Also an astrobotanist; she was on the team that developed the modular cultivation system that the Garrison currently uses in its lunar biospheres. Colleen, this is Keith Kogane. He’s a cadet at the Garrison. Probably going to beat me out for best pilot in academy history by the time he graduates, but don’t let him get a big head about it or anything.”

“Ah, Matt mentioned you’d taken one of the cadets under your wing,” Colleen said, holding out her hand to Keith. “Good to meet you, Keith. I hope Shiro here hasn’t been too terrible an influence on you.”

“I’m an amazing influence and you know it,” Shiro said as Keith silently shook Colleen’s hand. “Keith, don’t listen to her. She once said to Matt, and I quote, ‘Why can’t you be more like Shiro?’ Of course, that was only in regards to table manners, but still.”

“And if you can ever manage to teach that boy how to use a napkin, I will admit you’re an angel sent from Heaven, but that’s a pretty big ‘if’. You can go ahead and put your brownies with the rest of the desserts, Shiro, they’re at the end of the - ” She started to point toward the end of the line of tables, then frowned. “Katie!”

A girl who had been standing at the table jumped, her cinnamon-brown ponytail whipping around as she turned to face them, a partially eaten cookie dangling out of her mouth. Matt had mentioned before that he had a sister, and immediately Keith pegged this girl as her. Her face was a carbon copy of Matt’s; give her glasses and a shorter haircut and she could easily be mistaken for a younger version of Matt himself.

“What?” Katie asked through her cookie.

“How many of those have you had?”

Katie chewed thoughtfully at the cookie and swallowed before answering, “Like, fifty?”

Colleen sighed. “I told you to be sure to leave some for everyone else. You should at least try not to make yourself sick. Or eat some vegetables between the desserts.”

“Sorry,” Katie said with a shrug, not sounding sorry at all. She lifted her hand in a little wave. “Hi, Shiro. Those for me?”

“Hi, Katie, and no.” Shiro pulled the plate of brownies toward his chest. “If your mother says no more desserts, then no more desserts for you.”

“Kiss-up,” Katie said.

“Watch it, Katie,” Colleen said pointing her spatula at her. “You all promised to be on your best behavior today.”

“Matt calls him a kiss-up too.”

“Matt says it as a term of endearment,” Shiro said with a smirk. “Ah, Keith, you haven’t met Katie Holt yet, right? Matt’s little sister and gremlin extraordinaire. Katie, this is Keith. He’s a cadet at the Garrison. Top flier of his class,” he added with a note of pride in his voice, thumping Keith on the shoulder. “Katie’ll probably be applying to Garrison next year, so she may be a future classmate of yours. Scratch that, she definitely will be, she’s already nearly as good with computers as her brother.”

Katie snorted. “Nearly? I can code circles around him. If I was a couple years older, you can bet I’d be on that Kerberos mission too.”

“But for now, you’re here on Earth with us,” Colleen said. “And your job right now is to set out Shiro’s brownies for him, okay? And no eating them, you’ve had enough sugar to last you a week already.”

“We’ll see,” Katie said, stepping forward to take the brownies from Shiro and moving back to the dessert table.

Colleen sighed, rolling her eyes before turning back to Shiro. “All right, let’s not let these things get cold. You two want burgers or hot dogs?”

“Burgers for both of us,” Shiro answered. “Please and thank you.”

Colleen set buns onto paper plates for both of them before adding the patties and handing them off, and with a nod of thanks, Shiro led Keith down the tables to scoop up toppings and sides. He grabbed a large handful of the cookies Katie had been eating, looking around as if worried she was going to swoop back in and steal them from his plate - as far as Keith could tell, she had simply vanished from the yard, maybe slipped back into the house while he wasn’t paying attention, but he decided to take a cue from Shiro and be on his guard anyway - and passed two of the cookies to Keith before pulling two cans of lemonade from the cooler beside the dessert table before motioning Keith to follow him farther into the yard.

Keith balanced his plate carefully as they walked, one hand on top of the food to keep his potato chips from falling to the ground. He was nearly bowled over by two kids running past him right between him and Shiro, and right before they reached seats at one of the folding tables scattered throughout the yard, something cold nudged against his leg that made him jump, but he did manage to get all the way there with nothing being dropped. And the thing that had nudged him turned out to be the nose of a bull terrier, who wagged his tail enthusiastically while staring at Keith’s plate with shining eyes. Keith relented, ripping a piece of his hamburger bun off and handing it to the dog as he took his seat.

The dog wolfed it down without pausing to chew, then jumped up and put his front paws on the table, tail wagging even harder as his snout reached for more of Keith’s food. Shiro laughed. “I should have warned you,” he said. “Once Bae Bae knows you’re a sucker for the puppy dog eyes, he’ll never stop his begging.”

“Sorry,” Keith said.

“Hey, don’t apologize, I fell for it too my first time visiting. Hey Bae Bae!” He clicked his tongue, and the dog’s ears perked up as he turned to Shiro. “Ready?” Shiro said, lifting his clenched fist. Bae Bae stared intently. “Fetch!” Shiro turned around and tossed something Keith didn’t see across the yard, and Bae Bae took off, tongue flopping to the side of his mouth as he ran.

“What did you throw?” Keith asked.

“Nothing,” Shiro said. “Bae Bae’s not exactly as smart as the rest of the Holts. So.” He gestured toward Keith’s plate. “Go ahead, take a bite, tell me if you like it.”

Keith lifted the burger and bit into it, chewing slowly as Shiro watched eagerly. “All right,” Shiro said as Keith swallowed. “Is it amazing?”

“I’ve only had one bite,” Keith said.

“Okay, fine, take a few more.”

Keith did, contemplating the bite as he chewed, then nodded. “Yeah, it’s really good.”

“Best burger you ever tasted?”

“Uh… I mean, I really like the ones over at Larrison’s diner.”

Shiro raised a brow. “Wow, Keith. You’re really going to do Colleen dirty like that.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like the burger. Just, it’s not the best burger ever.”

“You know what, maybe it’s a matter of cheese complementing her burgers better than it does at Larrison’s. Suppose we’ll have to try to scrounge up some no-lactose cheese somewhere and come back sometime so you can try again. See if that - ah, Major Whitaker, good to see you.” He cut himself off as a middle-aged man took the seat across from him.

“Lieutenant,” the man said. “You read that article that came out this morning on that exoplanet survey satellite? If I might bend your ear for a few minutes, got some ideas about getting some collaboration worked out with the data we get from Kerberos.”

Keith chewed silently, letting his focus drift to his food as Shiro delved into conversation with the other man. Some of the stuff they were mentioning Keith could understand from his Garrison classes, but other parts were above his pay grade. He had finished the burger and had moved on to his chips by the time Whitaker spotted someone else he needed to talk to and took his leave.

“Sorry about that,” Shiro said, turning back to Keith with a little smile. “He tends to get right into talking, doesn’t bother with formalities like introducing himself.”

“That’s okay,” Keith said.

“You know, if you’d like, this can be a bit of opportunity to meet some of the other people involved in the Garrison’s manned missions. Considering how easily you’ve already taken to piloting, some of these people may be future crewmates of yours. Let’s see.” He turned in his chair. “Colonel Molina there, she was on the flight crew to the Garrison’s first expedition to Enceladus, and was one of the engineers who designed the Kerberos’ cockpit layout. That woman she’s with - crap, can’t remember if they’re fiancées still or wives now. Ah, well, not important. Uh, Dr. Velitchkov’s the one in line at the grill now, he’s our propulsion engineer, part of mission control. Captain Hashim’s mission control too, our flight dynamics officer. She’s the one over at the cornhole boards, those boys are her stepsons. Oh, the man at the table right there under the tree - ”

“Uh, Shiro,” Keith said. “This is - this is a lot of people to keep track of.”

“Right. Sorry, you’re right. Well, hey, if there’s anyone of interest you want me to introduce you to, I will, but set your own pace, all right? If you wanna just eat your chips in peace, that’s fine too.”

“Thank you.” Keith dipped a chip into the baked beans on his plate, munching on it as he glanced around at the gathered guests. Already he had forgotten every name Shiro had just told him, and the faces crowded around the yard were blurring together in his mind until they all looked the same. He shook his head, focusing on his food as Shiro chattered with a couple of other Garrison staff who came by the table. He nodded each time Shiro introduced him, but that was the only contribution he made to the conversations.

The meal was able to pass easily that way until one officer asked to borrow Shiro from the table, wanting to introduce him to his young daughter who apparently wanted to be an astronaut some day and was a very ardent Shiro fan. Shiro flashed Keith an apologetic smile as he got up. “I’ll only be a few minutes,” he said.

Keith nodded and waved him away, but the meal didn’t last him the rest of those few minutes, since he was already halfway through his dessert - two of Shiro’s not-homemade brownies - when he left. Once his plate was emptied, he sat at the table, unsure of what to do next. The people seemed louder when Shiro wasn’t next to him, the yard smaller and the smoke from the grill thicker.

He swung his legs for half a minute, thinking of tracking Shiro down and dragging him back over, but thought better of it. There were things to do at the cookout - cornhole boards and a badminton net were set up, and there were plenty of people just talking and laughing to pass the time - but they all required nerves and social energy that Keith simply didn’t have today.

Finally he settled on tracking down that dog and playing with him for a bit, and after scanning the yard, spotted his tail following someone through the back door of the house. Keith stood from his seat, moving to enter the house too, and tried not to draw attention to himself from the few people who had gathered in the kitchen. Instead he looked around for Bae Bae, and went to the stairs when he heard a jingling collar and the sound of paws climbing up the steps.

He hesitated at the bottom of the staircase, wondering if he was invading the Holts’ privacy by going up there, but decided he could at least check to see if the dog was just up in the hallway, not in anyone’s room. So he followed up the stairs and spotted Bae Bae. Not in the hall, but through an open doorway, lying on his back in a bedroom with his paws dangling in the air and his tongue flopped out, seemingly waiting for a belly rub. The other occupant of the room, though, hadn’t seemed to have noticed him there, since she had headphones on and was concentrating on what appeared to be some sort of fantasy MMO on the computer screen. Katie, Keith remembered, that’s what her name was.

And even though she hadn’t noticed anyone else around, Bae Bae did, and he rolled over, wagging his tail at the sight of Keith and letting out a bark. Katie jumped a little in her seat, lowering her headphones and turning around. “Uh,” she said. “If you’re looking for the bathroom, it’s the next door over.”

“No, I, uh - ” Keith cleared his throat. “I was actually just - I was following - ” He gestured toward Bae Bae, suddenly realizing how childish it probably seemed to have left the cookout to focus on following the pet around.

Katie, though, didn’t seem to think much of it, since she just shrugged and gestured him inside. “Go nuts. He likes scratches right behind the ears.”

“Okay.” Keith slowly entered the room and lowered himself to give Bae Bae the scratches, and he thumped his tail and panted eagerly at the petting. Keith glanced back at Katie’s screen. She seemed to be playing as some sort of troll or ogre carrying a hulking maul, and a picture of the character’s face in the top-left corner labeled her as Pidgeotto321 above a half-full health bar. “So, um, what - what are you doing up here?”

“I live here,” Katie answered.

“I mean, up here instead of at the cookout?”

“Oh.” She shrugged again. “I got bored. Been to a lot of these Kerberos things for Matt and Dad. After a while they’re all the same. And I always get the same questions. Oh, are you going to go to the Garrison too, follow in your big brother’s footsteps? Like they think I’m only interested in space to copy him. Or, wow, a whole year without your dad and brother, are you gonna miss them? Yeah, no shit I’m gonna miss them. Still say they could’ve waited a few years to go on this mission, wait until I’m old enough to go too, but…” She trailed off, grimacing. “God, sorry. Didn’t mean to ramble.”

“S’okay,” Keith mumbled.

“Just, ugh.” Katie sighed. “I’m excited for them, I really am, but it’s also kinda like, once the mission’s over and they’re back, it’ll be a relief, you know? Like, it’ll all stop being this big looming thing we gotta all prepare for. You been to many of these event things with Shiro?”

“A couple,” Keith said. “And I, uh, I get it. I’m gonna miss him too.”

Katie let out a little thoughtful hum before removing her headphones all the way and turning in her seat toward him. “So, like, out of curiosity, what are you two anyway?”

“Hm?” said Keith.

“You and Shiro. Are you cousins?”

“Um, no. Did - did he say we were?”

Katie shook her head. “Was just a theory. You look like you might be Japanese too, but not as much as Shiro, so I figured you couldn’t be full brothers, but you could be cousins. Or half-brothers.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m - I might be, I guess.” Keith didn’t actually know his ethnicity. His surname was probably Japanese, and he had seen on some of his social workers’ paperwork in the past that he had been marked down as mixed-race, but that was as specific as it got. His dad had died before Keith even knew what ethnicity was, and so had never asked about it, and of course his mom was just a giant question mark as he didn’t even know what she looked like.

“But you know, um - ” He cleared his throat. “Even if so, it’s not like all Japanese people are related.”

“Well, obviously,” Katie said, rolling her eyes. “But he invited you to a family cookout, right? Just assumed that probably meant you were related somehow. Are you?”

Keith blinked at her. His hand stopped scratching Bae Bae, and the dog nudged him in an attempt to regain his attention, but Keith was too focused on Katie right now to pay any mind. “What do you mean? He said it was a Kerberos cookout.”

“Yeah, for the Kerberos team and their families. That’s what the invitation Mom e-mailed out said. Most everyone else brought their spouses and kids, but obviously you’re not Shiro’s husband or son, so, you know. I was just wondering.”

“Oh. Um, we’re - he’s kind of, um, he helped me with - with applying to the Garrison and stuff, and uh, we - he’s done some, uh - ” He cleared his throat. “You said the bathroom was the next door down?”

“Uh-huh,” Pidge said, frowning. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Keith stood up. “Just, uh, just need to pee, that’s all.”

“Okay. Well, have fun.” She turned back to her computer as Keith left.

He didn’t head to the bathroom, though, and instead went back down the stairs and toward the yard. He didn’t get all the way there, though, because Shiro was in the kitchen, casting Keith a relieved smile at his entrance. “Hey, I was wondering where you ran off to!” His smile receded a bit as he caught Keith’s expression. “Something up?”

“No,” Keith said. “No, um, no, just - just, I was - I didn’t - ”

“Here.” Shiro swooped in to usher him away from the kitchen, where his stammering had started to attract attention, and into the Holts’ living room instead. “Now,” he said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Keith said. “I just, um… why - why didn’t you tell me this was a family cookout?”

Shiro frowned, brows drawing pensively together before slowly asking, “Are… you upset by that?”

“No. Well, I mean, I - I’m not upset, but - but - why am I here?”

“What do you mean?”

“This is supposed to be a family thing. I’m not - I shouldn’t be here. I should go - ”

“Hey, hey,” Shiro said softly. “Keith, it’s okay. It’s fine. I’m sorry, bud, I hadn’t realized that this was going to be distressing for you. I should have asked you ahead of time, if you were comfortable with going to a family event. That’s on me.”

“No, that’s not - why me? You’ve got family. Actual family.”

Shiro’s frown deepened. “Well, uh, my parents are about a ten-hour drive from here. Seems like a long way to travel for one cookout. But Keith - ”

“What about Adam? He’s your fiancé, you should have brought him, you - ”

“Keith, I am sorry. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I just thought…” He let out a breath. “You know, for a long time growing up, I wanted a little brother, and lately, helping you out with school and… well, with everything we’ve been doing, I suppose I’ve started thinking of you as - well, regardless, I’m sorry if that was overstepping your boundaries. If you don’t want me to think of you that way, I won’t. I promise.”

Keith bit his lip, shaking his head. That wasn’t it, it really wasn’t. After all, hadn’t he himself started to look at Shiro that way too? The guy was the perfect role model, had taken Keith under his wing and asked for nothing in return, had been there through every misstep Keith had made as a cadet and every low point, taught him about flying and riding hoverbikes and boxing and life. If Keith pictured the perfect big brother, he pictured Shiro.

But lots of people probably fantasized about having a big brother who was perfect.

People didn’t fantasize about having a little brother who was a needy, reckless screw-up.

“You - you shouldn’t,” Keith choked out. “You should - you should have a really good family. Your family should be really good people.”

“Keith, what do you mean?”

“I mean… you’re Shiro.”

“You’re Keith.”

Keith huffed. “I - I don’t get it. Why do you bother? You’re supposed to - you can do better.”

“Keith - ”

“You’re supposed to save being ‘family’ for people who are related to you. Or - or for - for when people have earned it. You can’t just throw it around like that, it - that’s not how it works. You’re supposed to - ”

He hadn’t realized his throat was tightening up until he choked on his words, and immediately, there were arms around him, and Shiro’s head was on his shoulder, speaking softly in his ear. “God, Keith. You’ve… people have really done a number on you, haven’t they?”

“I - ”

“You don’t have to earn anything from me, okay? I promise Keith. I like you. I like spending time with you, I like teaching you. I like making you feel better when you’re down, I like that you pretend to like my cooking.”

“I like your - ”

“No you don’t, but I like that you’ll lie for me. I like watching you succeed. I like seeing you grow. In my eyes, that makes you family. It’s not some elite class you’ve got to work your way into, Keith. It doesn’t matter what I’m ‘supposed’ to do, that’s not how family works. I don’t have to call you my brother or anything, not if you don’t like it - ”

“I, um,” Keith said softly, “I didn’t - I didn’t say I don’t like it. I’m just…”

“Not ready for it?”

“... I dunno?”

Shiro nodded. “That’s okay. That’s your call. But don’t you ever think that it’s not something you deserve, Keith. Don’t ever think that. Because it’s not true, not one bit.”

Keith nodded, sniffing before mumbling, “Okay.”

Shiro gave him a firm pat on the back before pulling out of the hug. “Now,” he said. “Matt was outside a few minutes ago, and he thinks he and Sam can beat the two of us at cornhole. You up for helping me crush his self-esteem?”

“Uh-huh,” Keith said, giving Shiro a hesitant smile.

“Attaboy. Come on, we’ll let him know we’re ready.”

He wrapped his arm around Keith’s shoulders and steered him back toward the kitchen, and as he did, Keith cleared his throat. “Um, Shiro?”

“Yeah?”

“If - if you wanna call me your brother, just, every once in a while - so I can, um, maybe test it out, see if I can get used to it - that, uh… that’d be okay, I think.”

Shiro grinned. “Will do, little brother.”

#vldgen #gentronweek #keith #shiro #pidge #colleen holt #my writing #fic: arms wide open

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nicoinc · 4 years

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( brigette lundy-paine, non-binary, they/them ). hey, isn’t that [ NICO FAVARELLI ] walking down bennington street? i think the [ 27 ] YEAR OLD [ IT SUPPORT & GAMING STREAMER ] is from [ WAITSFIELD, VT ]. i’ve heard some rumors down at ginger’s, saying that they're [ FIDGETY & OVERTHINKING ], but then again they’re known to be [ DEPENDABLE & LONGSUFFERING ]. either way, they seem to be interesting, hope they’ll stick around.

hello, cutest pies !! i’m bird (25, mst, she/her) and i am so happy to be bringing you my most sleep-deprived libra cinnamon roll, nico favarelli!

they were born a baby... a clean slate! (is this reference too obscure or just too lame? a classic nico conundrum) their family was lower middle class, the proprietors of a struggling construction business, and they were the youngest of four. they started off as nicola jane favarelli and promptly rejected that as soon as they became self-aware. from second grade on, they were nico! every year, the teacher would call roll for the time and by the time they reached middle school, there were multiple kids saying “it’s just nico” alongside them.

big adhd baby! they had a really tough time in school, even after being diagnosed and starting medication. if it wasn’t for their friends, they would’ve just been a hyperactive kid being told for the thousandth time not to draw on their desk. high school was a lot easier, but then they started coding! every moment they could possibly get away with was spent learning how to create and design everything that was cluttering their brain. the only time they stayed present was with their queen, eliza, and the rest of their friends. if someone didn’t force them, they would spend all of their time in their bedroom.

college was a drag (sometimes literally) and they didn’t finish! they got through four semesters and three weeks of a fifth before they dropped out. it turns out, you can’t actually just take all comp sci and literature classes if you want to graduate? when they ran out of classes without prerequisites, they lasted less than a month taking the gen eds they had missed. the solution? make puppy dog eyes until someone mentions you can come with them to nyc, of course!

the twitch (and youtube and facebook and periscope, ffs) streaming didn’t start until they got to new york! initially a quite honestly desperate ploy to be able to make rent, they started streaming their overwatch games after work and picked up a handful of subscribers after a few weeks of nearly nothing. then it was fortnite, which started to boost their profile. nowadays, they switch between a few different games but only really make enough for it to matter when they stream fortnite. it’s a love/hate relationship for the ages.

their game is almost done! it is the most indie of all indie games and is still rough, but they’ve been working on it for the last seven or so years and haven’t shown anyone more than a couple of assets or screenshots of backgrounds. they pretend there isn’t a reason, but there are actually a few. it is absolutely their life’s work, but their expectations are all wonky and who’s to say it doesn’t blow up in their face?

finally, a link to their pinterest to give you a vibe of all the things i didn’t know how to say!

well, i think that’s about it for now! i can’t wait to plot with everyone, i’ve been so distracted reading intros !! (and rewatching the good place finale, i just had to start my rewatch when i did) hmu on discord at is waif#2339

#laughtrackintro #i may be seven years late but here they are !!#i had to stop adding stuff eventually

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writethehousedown · 4 years

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Wrapped Up With You (Scyvie) - Peridot

A/N: Hey folks, merry Christmas! It’s been a while! I haven’t posted any fics in a few months but I got so inspired by this challenge that I’ve gotten back into writing! Here’s a little Scyvie fluff for y’all, I hope it gets you in the Christmas spirit! Big thank you to @artificialmeggie for being an amazing beta and for organising this entire thing, you’re a gem! You can find more of my writing over on AQ and you can give me any feedback either here or over at @artificialperidot. Hope you enjoy!

Yvie loved Christmas.

She loved the Christmas TV adverts, the cheesy Christmas cards with terrible puns, the ugly Christmas jumpers, she even loved the exhaustion of putting up the tree.

Christmas was undoubtedly her favourite season. It even beat Halloween for her, which was really saying something.

But if there was one thing Yvie just could not stand, it was wrapping presents.

And her hatred was slowly but surely turning her into more of a grinch.

Now, don’t get her wrong, she loved giving the presents. And she knew that it was what was inside the gift that really mattered. But she couldn’t help but feel inadequate when comparing her crumpled, disastrous wrapping to that of her girlfriend, Scarlet.

Scarlet’s presents were always a sight to behold. Beautiful, crisp neat wrapping paper folded around each gift; a colour-coded matching ribbon wrapped around and fashioned into a brilliant bow; a Christmas scent spritzed on the paper- chestnut or cinnamon or mint; and an extravagant tag, written in her best calligraphy, with her own original Christmas joke on each.

Scarlet’s presents weren’t just gifts; they were experiences.

Needless to say, Yvie was a little jealous.

Scarlet had always tried to help her, offering her wrapping suggestions and lending her bows and paper. Last year she even bought Yvie a few large gift bags to save her the trouble of wrapping all together. But, still, Yvie was adamant that she would wrap every single gift, no matter how horrible they looked, and the gift bags were left unopened.

But, this year, Yvie had a pretty important gift to give. And she was determined to make sure this one didn’t look like a piece of shit.

“So you’re telling me you’re actually going to let me help you wrap?” Scarlet beamed, squeezing her fists together like an excited little child. God, she was such a dork. A cute dork, though.

“Yes,” Yvie sighed, “but this is not an opportunity for you to wrap all my presents for me, okay?”

Scarlet jumped up and down, clapping her hands together with glee and producing a sort of enthusiastic squee. “This is going to be so much fun!”

With that, Scarlet shot up the stairs and returned with paper and boxes and tape and all bundled up in her arms, very nearly toppling over due to her lightning speed. Her arms overflowed with rolls of paper in golds and reds and greens, loose ribbons streaming out behind her. She dumped them all out on the table in front of them, before bolting back upstairs to her bedroom and coming back with a huge Santa sack, full to the brim with her unwrapped presents.

“Don’t get too excited,” Scarlet said matter-of-factly, “I made sure to take your presents out—no spoilers!”

Yvie shook her head in disbelief at the sheer enthusiasm of the girl. “Figures.”

“Well, what are you waiting for, Yves? Go get your presents!”

“We don’t have to do it right now, baby. There’s no rush.”

“Are you kidding me? There is a rush! We need to get started before you change your mind!” Scarlet playfully shook Yvie by her shoulder. “So hurry up, go get your gifts! There’s no time to lose!”

Yvie sighed and chuckled to herself before reluctantly heading to her bedroom to retrieve her presents, which she had ‘creatively’ hidden under her bed. She made sure to leave Scarlet’s gift, though—she’d have to face the struggle of wrapping that one alone.

By the time Yvie had made it back to the table, Scarlet had already began playing her infamous Christmas playlist, and was furiously sellotaping silver paper around a box whilst humming along to Wham’s ‘Last Christmas.’

“Took your time, I see,” she laughed.

Yvie rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but allow a smirk to form on her lips. “Let’s get this over with then, Scar. Where do I even start?”

“Well, first thing’s first. Cut out your wrapping paper.”

“Bold of you to assume I have any wrapping paper,” Yvie replied. “I guess I’ll need to borrow some of yours.”

“Well… I suppose you could use some of the red, so long as you don’t use all of it.”

Scarlet reluctantly handed over a roll to Yvie, before immediately beginning to cut out some more paper for her next gift (which happened to be a fan that she’d picked out for her friend Katya).

“Wait,” Yvie called, “how do you know how much to cut? What’s too much, what’s too little?”

“Uh, I guess it’s just instinct. Look at what you’re trying to wrap and see how much paper would make sense.”

Yvie set down her jar of honey (a joke gift she had bought for Katya’s girlfriend, Trixie) in the middle of the paper, and quickly realised that it wasn’t as simple as Scarlet had suggested. Her first attempt was far too small—it barely even reach around one side of the gift, never mind the whole thing. Her next attempt was far too big, and once she taped down the first side and attempted to fold the corners down, loose paper was left around each edge, crumpling and creasing.

“You can trim some of that off,” Scarlet had suggested.

Well, Yvie discovered that this was no easy task either. With only a few snips of her scissors Yvie had transformed the paper from massively excessive to way too little. And, as she has already taped it down, there was no going back now. It was ruined.

Yvie tried to patch up the gaps in her wrapping with more scrap pieces of paper here and there, but no matter how hard she tried it still appeared to be a ragged, crumpled mess. Not even Scarlet’s signature bow and tag could help- she ended up tying her ribbon into impossibly tight knots rather than bows, and the only Christmas-themed pun she could come up with was something about a lesbian who ‘needs (s)no(w)man,’ which, admittedly, was pathetic at best.

Maybe the gift bags weren’t looking like such a bad option after all.

“It’s no use,” Yvie sighed in frustration. “I can’t do it.”

“Aw Yves, it’s okay! You know that it’s what’s on the inside that counts.”

“Easy for you to say, little miss ‘I can wrap,’” Yvie scoffed in a mocking tone. “Not everyone can be perfect like you.”

Scarlet bit her lip, and Yvie could tell from her puppy-dog eyes that she’d hurt her a little, even though her insult was pretty harmless.

“Oh Scar, I’m sorry baby. It’s a compliment, really. I think your wrapping is awesome.”

Scarlet perked up a little after that, her brief sadness disintegrating in favour of a small smile. “Thanks Yvie. And, for the record, there’s nothing wrong with your wrapping. It’s the thought that counts!”

Yvie chuckled, and planted a small kiss on Scarlet’s forehead. It was impossible not to find her positivity endearing.

“I guess you’re right,” she shrugged, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Though as much as I’d love to wrap more presents with you, I don’t think I can take anymore. I think I’ll just give in and use gift bags instead.”

Scarlet smiled. “That’s okay, baby. I can finish mine up tomorrow.”

“Wanna cuddle and watch a Christmas movie with hot chocolate instead?” Yvie suggested.

“Hell yeah! Can we watch Home Alone?”

“Which one?”

Scarlet raised her eyebrow. “The first one, duh. The second one is okay too, but the others don’t count.”

“You read my mind exactly.”

***

On Christmas Eve night, Yvie snuck downstairs, arms bundled with wrapping paper and bows and scissors. She would wrap at least one present if it killed her. She was beyond the point of caring what it looked like, but she knew that she had to try her best.

For Scarlet.

***

When Christmas Day rolled around, Yvie was ready. She had her plan laid out and her gift wrapped, and she was ready to give it to Scarlet.

After the pair had opened all of the presents under the tree, Yvie produced a small envelope from her pocket, which she had attempted to wrap using the same red paper. In all honesty, it looked like a haphazard, crumpled mess; covered in rips, corners sticking out at all angles and an ungodly amount of crumpled sticky tape. It looked less like a gift and more like if someone had balled a sheet of paper to throw in the bin, to be frank. But, Yvie handed it over with a sense of pride nonetheless.

Despite the present’s appearance, Scarlet smiled at Yvie’s wrapping efforts (even though she questioned why she had even attempted to wrap an envelope in the first place.) Nevertheless, she tore off the paper, opened the envelope, and revealed a Christmas Card, with a photoshopped picture of Ross and Rachel wearing Santa hats, with Yvie’s face pasted over Ross’s and Scarlet’s on Rachel’s. She smirked and began to open the card, and, holding it up to her face, read the message that Yvie had scrawled aloud.

“To the love of my life,

Merry Christmas! Christmas has always been our favourite day, and this year I wanted to make it even more special. I couldn’t think of any good jokes to write on the tag, so I figured that instead I could make a Christmas wish….

Look down.”

Scarlet furrowed her brow in slight confusion, and pulled the card away from her face.

There she saw Yvie, down on one knee, with a perfectly wrapped small box perched on her hand. It was white with a gold ribbon and a gold tag to match, and looked just as though it had been wrapped by Scarlet herself. It was perfect.

Perhaps Yvie had picked up on some of Scarlet’s wrapping tips after all.

Scarlet’s jaw hung open and her eyes started to well up with tears. It didn’t take a genius to see where this was going.

“Read the tag,” Yvie said with a smile.

“My angel, I hope you’ll grant my Christmas wish,” Scarlet read, choking back a sob.

“Scarlet, I love you. I want to spend every Christmas with you until the end of time,” Yvie proclaimed, holding back her own tears. “Will you marry me, Scarlet?”

With that, Yvie opened the wrapped box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring, that shone as bright as the tears that reflected in Scarlet’s eye.

The ring was white gold. Just like the wrapping paper and ribbon.

With that, Scarlet let her floodgates open and uttered a stream of joyous ‘yeses’ through her tears, throwing her arms around Yvie’s neck at full throttle. Yvie stood up and held Scarlet tight, lifting her and whirling her around the room as her own tears began to stream, laughter and crying mingling into one concoction of joy.

They clung to each other for what felt like forever, emotions overcoming their words. It would be wrong to speak, to interrupt their feelings of true love with something so futile as words. There weren’t any words in the English language that could capture this feeling.

Yvie was positive that she would never let her go of Scarlet. Ever again.

“I love you so much, Yvie,” Scarlet was eventually able to murmur. “This was so perfect. You are perfect.”

“I love you too, Scarlet,” Yvie said, arms still entangled with hers. “You’re my best friend, and I never want to spend another Christmas without you.”

Scarlet reached her neck up and planted a deep, loving kiss on her lips. “You never will, Yvie.”

They stayed snuggled together on the sofa for a little while longer, each not quite ready to let go of the other yet. Scarlet tried on her ring which fit like a glove, and vowed that she would buy Yvie any ring that she wanted.

The two collided in another soft kiss, full of love and kindness and warmth. When they broke apart, Yvie looked down into Scarlet’s big, blue eyes that still had tears brimming their banks.

“Hey Scarlet?”

“Yeah Yvie?”

“You’re the best gift I’ve ever received.”

#rpdr fanfiction #scyvie #scarlet envy #yvie oddly #lesbian au #fluff #peridot #ficmas #day two: wrapping paper #submission

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elfgrove · 7 years

Text

Bad Diagnosis - Part 3/6

Rating: T - angst, facing mortality, friendship, lion-paladin bond Word Count: 2195 Characters: Katie “Pidge” Holt, Green Lion, Hunk Garrett, Keith Kogane AO3: [link] < Prev | Next >

Note: a) This is not an entirely accurate depiction of how brain tumors affect real people. It is based largely on skimming online stuff and stories from family members who’ve been there. Also, blame inaccuracies on how the Altean medicine is affecting things. b) Actions of characters are meant to be in-character and as flawed as the characters are, not recommended behavior for real people to follow.

"Hey Pidge, can you stick around and help me with the food goo machine after breakfast?"

She glanced up at Hunk from where she'd been blearily trying to muddle through some code on her tablet. Last night had been long. A seizure in a supply closet followed by a couple of hours curled up inside Green before she'd finally managed to grab a couple of hours sleep in the wee hours of the morning.

Days like this, she really missed coffee.

"Sure thing."

She stretched when breakfast was over, rolling up her sleeves and helping Hunk gather the dishes while the other members of Team Voltron left to go about their own tasks.

For a while, they worked quietly together, washing dishes.

"So, what have you been working on lately?"

She almost dropped the plate she was holding, "Trying to figure out how to adapt the cloaking from the training maze for the other lions. Why?"

"Just curious I guess," He took the plate from her, putting it away.

"You don't normally ask."

Hunk shrugged, wiping his hands of before passing her the towel, "I've been wondering."

She copied the motion, laying the towel down on the counter when she was done, "Yeah. I figured. You usually don't though. You know I'll tell you about it when I get it working."

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking around the kitchen as if he could find a distraction rather than answer her.

"The food goo machine doesn't need work, does it?"

"Err... No."

"Hunk!"

"Listen, I'm worried about you!" He started pacing, gesturing with his hands as he spoke, but not raising his voice, "You've been quieter than usual about whatever you've been working on in your free time lately. You usually come to me if you're having trouble working something out, but you haven't. And I can tell it's eating up all of your focus, because you've been eating less. Don't look at me like that. It's a lot less. You're losing weight, and you really don't have any extra to lose."

She'd known her appetite had been shrinking as she'd been needing to increase the doses, but she hadn't thought anyone would notice. She hadn't realized she'd been losing weight.

"Someone else is going to notice and say something eventually." Hunk sighed, stopping to run a hand through his hair and glance at her before looking away again, "I figured I'd try to talk to you about it privately, help you with whatever you're working on so you wouldn't be so keyed up that you're not eating."

She shook her head slowly, "It's nothing you can help with."

"It's not really cloaking stuff for the Lions, is it?"

She chuckled, "I am working on that, actually."

"It's not my food, is it? I can make something else for you if that's the problem!"

She started to say no, but he was right. Eating had been harder lately. She couldn't keep not eating and pilot. Food was necessary to survival and all. Eventually, someone else would make an issue of it too, and they'd be less willing to let her off the hook without a good answer.

"Could you maybe make mine with less spices or strong smells?" She cringed to even ask, "You're a great cook, but I think all the alien food is just doing a number on my stomach."

He nodded enthusiastically, "I can handle that!"

He sounded so cheered by the ability to do something, she had to smile, "Thanks, Hunk."

"Do you want me to whip you up something now? I can make something now!"

"No," She laughed. "I'm good for now. I appreciate it."

"Anytime!"

"Okay, I'm going to go get back to work with Green."

He nodded, already turning to the cabinets and storage bins, probably planning how to alter his food to make something blander for her.

It would probably actually help too.

Green banked a hard left to avoid a blast from the Galra battle cruiser.

Red flew in beside them, Keith's voice coming in over the coms, "Flank left, and I'll go right. If we use the jaw blades along the inset just above that turret line—"

She nodded as she saw what he was talking about it, “On it!”

Green shook as they ripped through the hull of the giant ship, and a satisfying crescendo of explosions followed in her wake. At the other end of the battleship, she shared a cheer of triumph with Keith. While the ship started to collapse in catastrophic failure, they swept out through the space, clearing smaller enemy fighters with claws and blasts from the Lions’ mouths.

Nearby, the other three Paladins had taken out the larger battle cruiser and were similarly sweeping the area of stray fighters. Allura sent out a message that she and Coran working with the native Bajorans had managed to successfully stop the bomb planted in the tectonic plates of the planet below them.

She snickered as Allura repeated the name of the planet, unable to keep a straight face at the idea that Bajor was a real planet. Bajorans a real alien race. It was straight out of Star Trek. Not that the real Bajorans looked anything like their fictional TV counterparts.

She muted her comm to avoid getting chastised by Shiro or Allura again for her bad sense of humor.

“I heard that,” Keith’s voice came over a one-to-one channel between their Lions.

She chuckled again, “I can’t help it. BAJORANS! I used to watch old Star Trek episodes with my Mom.”

They swept through another cluster of Galran fighters, working in tandem to clear the battlefield as they chatted.

“Hey, I didn’t say I blamed you,” This time Keith laughed. “I was kind of disappointed when it turned out they looked like regular Grey aliens straight out of the old Roswell conspiracy theories.”

“Right?!” She felt her grin widen even as she wiped sweat away from her neck and pulled at the fabric of her suit trying to get some relief in the stuffy cockpit. “Not so much as a single earring or wrinkled nose! I can’t believe Star Trek lied to me!”

“You and I both,” Keith answered warmly. “Just don’t mention it to Allura or Shiro, I don’t think they’d appreciate the joke.”

“Of course not!”

“Still, I can’t believe some writer on Earth managed to get the names right for an old sci-fi show. The rebel group here even calls themselves the Maquis!”

“You noticed that too?”

“Absolutely!”

They continued chatting for a while, discussing favorite Star Trek races while hunting down the last straggling sentry-manned Galra fighters. Hers was Vulcans, of course. She was more surprised to find out Keith’s was Betazoids. Somehow, she’d expected Klingons.

When they got back to the Lion hangar at the Castleship, Shiro complimented them on how well they’d worked as a pair today, the sword and shield of Voltron. They’d traded satisfied grins and a fist bump, not telling anyone they’d been bonding over an old sci-fi series and making bad jokes for a large chunk of the battle.

She hadn’t expected Keith to track her down later to continue their chat. It wasn’t that he never did. In fact, it wasn’t strange at all for them to discuss Earth conspiracy theories and urban legends while she was working on a project, but she usually had privacy for several vargas after a battle. Everyone went off to relax, rest, and unwind in their own way.

Usually.

Under normal circumstances she would have found him perching on some nearby bit of furniture chatting with her while she worked her way through some bit of alien technology comforting. Today wasn’t a normal day.

Not old normal at least.

She’d managed to get a shower and get changed into a set of casual Altean clothes (her poor sweater from Earth was on its last legs) before the tremors had set in today. The last thing she’d expected was for Keith to come uncertainly into the darkened and unused lounge she’d hidden in just as the smell of cinnamon started to overwhelm her senses.

“Pidge,” His smiling face had fallen into that lost puppy look he sometimes wore as his searching eyes zeroed in on her in the dully-lit room. “What are you doing down here?”

She shook her head, trying to hide the way her arms were already starting to spasm, beginning at the hands, pinning them between her knees where she sat on the floor behind a couch.

“Nothing,” There was a slowness to her words, and she could feel her mind starting to swim. This was going to be one of the bad ones.

Not now. NOT. NOW.

Keith’s eyes narrowed and he dropped a tablet he’d been carrying as he rushed to kneel next to her. “What’s wrong? What can I do? I’ll go get—"

“No!” She managed to choke out a few words, voice desperate and fierce, even as the room started to tilt dangerously. “Don’t tell!”

She felt Keith’s hands on her shoulders as an oddly distant sensation just as the world around her went black.

She came back to herself quickly, head spinning, body sore, every muscle in revolt. She pushed herself halfway up and leaned away from something soft and warm as her body shuddered violently and she vomited what little she’d eaten this morning onto the metal floor.

She was breathing hard, on hands and knees by the time her stomach finished emptying. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, not ready to face the consequences of having been caught yet. An arm carefully wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her backwards until she was leaning against something – the couch back?

She cracked her eyes open slowly to find she was still in the dimly lit lounge, Keith sat next to her, purple eyes wide and watchful, his arm still carefully holding her in a sitting position.

“Keith...?”

“Welcome back,” He spoke softly, eyebrows furrowed and uncertain. “What do you need?”

“Water. Should be—"

“On the table,” He finished. “I see them. Can you sit up on your own?”

She nodded, and he moved to retrieve a couple of the water packs she’d left in the room for exactly this reason. He passed one to her as he returned to his seat on the floor next to her, holding the other on his far side, watching as she took a few long drinks before retrieving her pills from a pocket and taking a dose of the Altean medicine.

He waited.

“You didn’t tell anyone.” She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement.

“You asked me not to.” He shifted to face her better, ignoring the vomit on the floor, but eyes darting from the pill bottle to her face. “Something’s wrong.”

She swallowed a couple of times, feeling disgusting and humiliated, and not enough on top of her game to be sure she could convince him to keep her secret. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“What is it?”

“Promise me.”

“Pidge, I can’t...”

“I need you to.” She took a bet, knowing how deep his bond with Red ran, “If anyone finds out, they’ll make me stop piloting Green.”

His eyes widened, and she watched as his jaw clench in sympathy.

“I cannot lose her.”

“Okay.” He took in and released a long, slow breath, “But you have to tell me what’s going on.”

She nodded, feeling her shoulders unknot slightly in relief, “I have a brain tumor. I’m taking meds for it, but I still have seizures occasionally.” A lot more than occasionally, but Keith didn’t need to know that. “I’m handling it.”

“I’m guessing the healing pods don’t help.”

“It’s not an injury or a foreign entity. It’s a genetic abnormality. It’s me. The pods wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

He sighed and bit his bottom lip, “I’m guessing surgery is—"

“Not operable. Even if we had a surgeon on the team, which we don’t.”

“Is it,” He paused, looking her up and down as if putting several puzzle pieces together at once. “It’s killing you.”

“Brain tumors kind of tend to do that,” She shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, but felt hot tears forming at the corners of her eyes anyways. “It’s how they work. I’m mitigating.”

He nodded, small swift bobs of his head without looking at her, like he was trying to make himself accept the news.

They were silent for a long few moments, sitting together on the cold floor of an abandoned section of the castle.

“How long?” His voice was almost childlike in the tone of the question, “How long do you have?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why would they make you stop piloting if they knew?”

She locked eyes with him, “You already know that answer, Keith. You’re smart.”

He stared back for a long moment before slowly closing his eyes and bringing his hand up to cover the lower half of his face. His expression was pained. “The Lion Paladin bond. Its accelerating the tumor growth.”

He didn’t open his eyes to see her nod of confirmation.

#LION PALADIN BONDING #Pidge #Katie Holt #Hunk #Keith #my VLD fic #fanfic #Voltron Legendary Defender #Voltron #art by elfgrove

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