#She's so worried about Mario but not in a way that dismisses his capabilities | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andimlonely · 4 years

Text

You Shine

BNHA; Denki Kaminari x f!reader | With finals approaching, your diligence is cranked up to the highest setting, but after rarely seeing you outside of class for a few days, Denki has to step in before you run yourself into the ground.

✿♦ Fluff and angst

A/N: I was struggling with this one for awhile but I think I like how it turned out in the end. Listening to this: https://youtu.be/AGtKpeY6UqI really helped to inspire me, because it captures the feeling of the angsty moments well. Really, a lot of the angst I write will probably pair well with that song if it’s not super heavy. I hope you enjoy this one, and maybe even find some comfort in it if you can relate!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Heya, (y/n),” greets Kaminari as he strolls into your room casually, as he always does, clad in a black tank and grey track pants.

You lift your head and glance over your shoulder at him from your desk, noticing the dampness of his forehead and hair, “Hey, Denki. What’s up?”

“Nothin’ much. Kiri and I just got back from the gym. Can ya tell?”

It takes one glance at your blond friend’s silly pose, an attempt to flex all the muscle he purported to have, for you to chuckle, “Yeah, I can tell.”

He chuckles along with you, retorting that maybe he isn’t all muscular yet but he’ll get there, and dropping down onto your baby blue beanbag chair - and probably widening the small but worrisome ripped seam that you have yet to sew back up.

While he makes himself comfortable, you continue to tap at your keyboard, then pause to read, then tap away again, a monotonous cycle that threatens to lull him into a boredom-induced nap. By now Denki is used to the sight, having learned of your diligence before he even got to know you personally. In fact, it was due to Aizawa’s praise towards the students with perfect scores on the first exam that he reached out to you in the first place. With Yaoyorozu overbooked for studying sessions, it was between you and Midoriya, and while he had nothing against his freckled classmate, he wasn’t going to choose him as a tutor when there was someone cute and just as capable available.

But despite how accustomed he is to seeing you hunched over your desk, he’s no less dismayed.

“Don’t tell me you’re still studying,” he groans, his head tossed back against the beanbag.

The rhetorical nature of the question has you playfully rolling your eyes. “Should I even answer that? Besides, have you even started studying? Finals are next week.”

“It’s Monday! This week just started and you’re already worrying about the next one?”

He really won’t let this go. Exasperated, you drop your pen and swivel around so you can plead him to let you study.

“Denki,” you whine, “We’ve been over this. Cramming at the last minute isn’t a good idea, didn’t you learn that after the last math test?”

He cringes at the mention, raising his hands defensively, “Alright, alright. I’ll let you study, but you’re still playing games with us later. I’m not gonna let you ditch me for some homework.”

“Fine,” you sigh with exaggerated reluctance. Secretly, as exhausted by Denki’s refusal to let you work in peace you are, you’re endeared by how persistently he tries to give you a break. Taking a little time to go get food with your best friend, or watch a movie, or anything really, sounds especially fun right now. Almost fun enough to loosen your tight study schedule, almost.

It’s not as if you want to study, or that it’s some kind of recreational activity for you. Flicking endlessly through pages, straining your eyes scanning line upon line of text, and scrawling numbers and letters that become progressively less neat in your notebook are all pretty dreadful to you. But the prospect of being handed back an assignment marked with anything less than 90% possesses your body to keep at it. The weight of maintaining such a strict regimen might strain your shoulders, but the weight of failing or underperforming threatens to crush you. And as much as you want to let it every now and then, you sweep the idea aside by burying your nose into your work.

With a reminder that you have a few hours until you have to report to Jirou’s room for some gaming, Kaminari dismisses his still mildly sweaty self for a much needed shower.

----

You spent that night huddled between Jirou and Denki for a couple hours, immersed in the almost evenly matched brawling of Smash Ultimate and the tumultuous rollercoaster of a game that is Mario Kart, among other games. It felt nice to indulge in something fun for awhile, even more so surrounded by your friends, but before it went on for too long you excused yourself back to your room for the night.

That was the last time Denki and Jirou had seen you outside of class not hunched over a book or your computer, or training furiously at the gym. Needless to say, your absence from the group activities, and spaces outside your room in general - besides meals - quickly grew worrisome.

“Dude, I haven’t seen (y/n) out here like all week,” Kaminari frowns, “I get it’s finals almost, but she’s kinda pushing it, don’t you think?”

Jirou, after taking a drink from her water bottle, sits on the adjacent sofa. “Definitely. I tried dragging her out earlier but she was asleep at her desk.”

“Damn, dude. All she does is homework and study. I’m getting kinda worried about her.”

You might be what Denki considers an overachiever, but he’s never seen you this determined, except maybe during practical exams and of course during the many villain encounters the class has endured. But as for school work, you’re never this obsessed.

“We should try talking to her or something,” Jirou suggests, sharing in the blond’s concern for you.

“She’s so stubborn though. I tell her to take it easy all the time, she just won’t have it.”

“That’s not what I meant. Of course she’s not gonna listen if you tell her to take a break. I meant ask her why she’s so stressed in the first place. Maybe something else is bothering her.”

For some reason, the idea that something besides compulsion and maybe a little masochism is fueling your tireless work hadn’t occurred to him before.

Denki crosses his arms, “Ya think?”

It makes sense as he considers the idea. But what could be so compelling to keep you chained to your desk everyday? He isn’t sure, but he aims to find out.

----

You barely hear the knocking over the audio playing in your earbuds, the explanation of a scientific concept you find too abstract put on hold as you answer the door.

“Denki. You knocked,” you say, eyebrows hovering far above your eyes.

Your eyes. You look so tired. Denki is struck by the darkness encircling your usually bright (e/c) irises, now swimming with tired determination.

“I know,” he replies, his hand stroking the back of his head as he steps into your room, “I dunno why.”

The curtains are loose, completely shielding your room from any light that could spill in from the night sky, though it could surely use some; your table lamp is the only source of light in the dimly lit room. In the dark he can still make out the clothes and few other items littering the floor around you, probably accumulating from all the time you sank into your studies this week.

“I assume you’re here to tell me I need a break, but I already took one. I watched youtube for an hour or so,” you inform him, a tired smile on your lips.

His smile is weak, and you notice it. “Not bad.”

He’s too quiet.

“What’s wrong?”

A nervous chuckle falls from his lips, “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then.. Why are you so quiet?”

The only times Denki ever acted this strange were after brushes with villains, and that time he was feeling insecure about his critical thinking on the field, so you know better than to believe nothing is bothering him.

“Ah.. guess I’m just tired. Aren’t you?”

“A little,” you confess, your fingers tugging at the hem of your t-shirt. “But I can’t stop now. I’ve gotten a lot done, but I still have lots to finish.”

“Dude,” your friend whines, and you sigh, already ready to protest his insistence that you’re pushing yourself too far. “I know you don’t wanna hear this, (y/n), but you really need to take a break. We haven’t even seen you out of your room since the other day, except for dinner.”

“Denki, I don’t have time for this..”

“I’m serious, (y/n). We’re getting worried about you. Not even just me and Jirou, but the others too.”

“Worried? I’m fine.”

Even you don’t sound so sure, your stare locked on anything that isn’t Denki.

He drags a hand down his face, groaning once again. Maybe his pestering is annoying, but enough is enough. He would rather risk you hating him for a little while than let you run yourself into the ground like you’ve been.

“(y/n), look. I get you’re driven and all, but it’s okay to take a break, you know?,”

“No, Denki, it’s not okay! It’s not chill, or cool, or fine! I have to pass - no, I have to ace these tests!”

Your outburst has him taken aback, and he places a hand on your shoulder, eyes like honey saturated with sincerity.

“Hey, hey. (y/n). They’re just tests, relax.”

“Relax”..? The word alone has you flying into a fit of rage. How could he possibly expect you to just relax, as if it’s easy, as if you can erase the glaring red numbers that flash through your mind any time your hands aren’t busy. As if the imaginary anvil hanging over your head will just disappear if you pretend it isn’t there. As if you can even dig yourself out of the mounds of paper you’re swimming in in the first place.

“They’re not, though! Why aren’t you getting that?! Maybe you don’t feel an urgency to do well, but I do, why is that wrong?”

Denki has never seen you this distressed before, and he only grows more alarmed by the way your eyes grow glassier every time you speak.

“It’s not wrong, (y/n).. But obsessing about it like this is. It’s not like you’re anywhere close to failing your classes, so why is this freaking you out so much?”

“Because it’s the only thing I have! If I don’t do well academically then --”

Before the rest can escape, you cut yourself off, halting the flood of words that threaten to break through your lips. Your wrap your arms around yourself, your fingers pressing firmly into your arms.

But Denki can’t forget what you’ve said. He has to know. Why are you so desperate to prepare for these finals?

Rather than try to make you look him in the eye, he steps into your line of sight again, urging you to finish your thought.

“Then what..?”

Half of your face is illuminated by the glow of your lamp and computer, a gleaming droplet rolling down the slope of your cheek. Your breaths stutter faintly. The silence feels thick, so gripping in the absence of your raised voice from just moments ago. The room’s energy might have diminished but the weight of your emotion clings to the air.

“T-then I.. don’t stand out at all,” you murmur, all the defensiveness from before drained from your voice.

‘(y/n)...’

His hand is raised as if reaching weakly out to you, but you turn your back to him.

“What are you talking about?..”

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

“My quirk isn’t really exciting, and my field work is fine but it’s not outstanding.. If I can’t ace every test, then there’s nothing exceptional about me at all. I’m just.. mediocre without my academics.”

And you struggle to even stand out then. Yaoyorozu, Iida, Deku.. even Bakugou. All of them are just as, maybe even more, focused on their grades and just as often share in your tendency to receive high marks. It’s not as if you want them to fail; you even admire their intelligence and diligence, but sometimes, sometimes it seems so unfair. They already have such amazing quirks, make such an impression whether they’re participating in something controlled like the Sports Festival or finding creative ways to elude villains. They already seem like heroes. Why can’t you have just one moment to feel that capable, even if your moment is confined to the classroom?

“(y/n).. Hey, that’s not true. You’ve got it all wrong. There’s tons of stuff about you that stands out.”

By now your shoulders are shaking, every drop of frustration and exhaustion you locked away to be able to focus on your studies over the week seeping out of you at once.

“Like what, that I’m the least interesting student in the class?”

Denki’s chest stirs with a guilt-like feeling. How could you think this way? How could all this fear and insecurity you’ve been carrying have slipped past him? Quirk aside, he isn’t the brightest, but he thought he at least knew you well enough to notice when something is wrong.

He moves in front of you, and seeing you have your head lowered, he crouches before you so his face is in sight.

“No. Like how great you are at thinking on your feet. And how much you trust other people, instead of just taking the reigns every time you’re working with them. And all the creative ways you use your quirk. I’d never be able to think up stuff like that if I were you. Hell, I couldn’t even think of a way around the obstacles of my quirk without some help.”

“But.. what if my quirk just isn’t special enough?..”

“Hey. I get it. Sometimes it can feel like the rest of us fade into the background when you look at people like Bakugou or Todoroki. They seem like they’re lightyears away from us sometimes, and it can be kind of a downer. But just look at all the times relying on their quirk wasn’t even enough.”

“Yeah.. I guess so.”

He continues.

“I mean, yeah, quirks are pretty important, and powerful ones get all the attention. But if the only thing you have going for you is your quirk, I dunno, I doubt you’re gonna get very far. Don’t you think? I mean maybe if I was as smart as you I’d have a lot more brain cells left after using my quirk for a long period of time,” he jokes, tender smile deepening when you crack a laugh of your own.

“I guess I’m trying to say.. Your quirk is just as cool as anyone else’s, but it only is because you made it that way. You don’t have to ace every test to stand out, because you already shine without that. But it’s not like you even have to try that hard to do well, right? So just.. Keep being you.”

“I.. shine?”

“Even without your quirk, or your good grades,” he nods, rising to his feet, “You’re already awesome without all that.”

Without warning, your arms are wrapped tightly around him, your face buried into his shoulder, dampening his shirt somewhat as the tears you were suppressing flow free - not that he cares. You could blow your nose with this shirt and he wouldn’t mind if it meant he got to feel you like this. With the arm not trapped in your embrace, he squeezes you closer.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you mumble into his shoulder.

“It’s okay. You’re kinda cute when you’re mad anyway,” he grins, half expecting you to shoot him a playful glare, but you stay nestled in the fabric of his t-shirt instead. “So you promise you’re gonna slow down?”

You can’t remember the last time you felt this calm. You don’t want to let him go, not any time soon. Despite how close you’ve become, you had never hugged Denki for this long, but now, as he sways you lightly right to left, you can’t imagine going long without it.

“I’ll try,” you nod, face flushed as you come down from your emotional high, “Could we maybe.. watch a movie together? I’m tired of studying for tonight.”

“‘Course. I’ll get my laptop, it’s bigger.”

#denki kaminari x reader #denki x reader #denki fluff #denki angst #bnha fluff #bnha angst #bnha fanfic #denki kaminari #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagine #x reader #reader insert

138 notes · View notes

evermoire · 3 years

Text

like a rainbow with all of the colors | pack.

“lydia... lydia, no! lydi—-”

cora’s cry abruptly cut off when lydia pounced on her. the couch cushions sank beneath their combined weight, cora leaning almost completely onto mason as lydia straddled her hips, makeup brush in hand. scott snickered, snapping a photo, catching the rare sight of cora’s flushed cheeks as she and lydia laughed, the wolf doing a poor halfhearted job of dodging lydia’s makeup brush. “mason, hold her down,” lydia demanded, the seriousness off the command lost to the way she giggled.

cora’s laughter rang louder, hands loosely gripping lydia’s wrists to keep her at bay, back arching and eyes crinkling. “no! absolutely not, je refuse!”

lydia’s arms went limp as she dissolved into another round of breathless laughter, body curling forward. “i hate you,” she gasped through her giggles, lifting her wrist to wipe tears from her eyes. “you had one french lesson with ally, and this is what you do with it?” and when cora nodded, the two laughed even harder. “cora, you promised! you said i could do your makeup for thanksgiving!”

“you are such a liar!”

“...let me do it anyway!”

arms full of dinner precursors, derek paused to watch the two. they seemed... lighter. though they still hadn’t solved things with the wolf, the cops or kate, november had proven to be calm, in comparison. lydia’s seventeenth birthday came and went without a hitch, and mason’s birthday celebrations were being mixed into today’s events, his presents stashed away in the summer kitchen for later. as november trickled by without a single problem, everyone relaxed in a way derek didn’t think they were capable of.

cora hadn’t been much of a cheerful kid, but she laughed so openly now. it was something that was so natural and rare and unforgettable all at once.

“girls,” scott’s mom called as she headed back in the house, noam stilinski in tow with grocery bags, “no playing on the couch. rosie, go tell jude to take her medicine before she grabs another banana nut muffin. and tell her if i see her with another cupcake before dinner, she’s not seeing another cupcake until she’s my age.”

“cosigned!” david whittemore called from where he and hershel were chatting in the ‘nice’ living room.

“yes, ma’am,” cora and lydia chorused, cheeks red and wet with errant tears as lydia dropped a lipsticked kiss onto cora’s forehead and allowed the wolf to shove her off. the redhead giggled as cora failed to remove the lipstick stain and the two began to childishly, playfully stick their tongues out at each other, before giggling again.

liam sat down on the arm of the couch, splitting a muffin that ariadne had given him and offering a half to mason. days spent at the greene farm were more common than not nowadays. it had taken no serious amount of thought to decide that packsgiving ( as evie and bailey earnestly dubbed it ) should be held here. and though parents hadn’t been required to come along, it had only felt natural that their families spend this time with them. the pack had free range of the place, so most of the day could be spent to themselves, whether outside or in the barn, while the adults were content to stay in the main house and enjoy time together. liam had been worried that his parents would find it strange that he’d made such a varied group of friends, when he’d always struggled to make one friend before, but they’d been overjoyed. since then, all of the pack parents had gotten along swell, despite not knowing the nature of how their kids all became friends. he’d never known that community parenting was actually a thing until all of the pack parents started doing it and doing it well.

last liam heard, the adults had a very active group chat. he tried not to think about it.

his nose crinkled as he swallowed a bite. “isn’t jude teaching doctor deaton how to cyberbully the sheriff?”

“maggie told her to stop,” kira provided as she made her way down the stairs, a small smile fitted on her face. “the last thing we need is, and i quote, ‘all of the important adults in town to start kinkshaming the sheriff into resignation.’”

liam blinked. “why would we not want that?”

kira held up her hands innocently. “maggie’s words, not mine. though i think she’s more opposed to the kinkshaming than the resigning.” she made her way to the table, where derek was dutifully setting up bowls and baskets of deviled eggs — stuffed eggs, hershel had corrected when cole had called them that, flabbergasted at the idea of giving the devil credit for his wife’s delicious cooking — and various breads and snacks, and lowered her voice. “allison, bailey and i checked all of the wards around the property. they’re standing strong and i don’t feel anything bad anywhere near us. oh, and danny's still caught up in that thing with his dad, but he did check to make sure no one was trying to track any cars or phones or anything like that, and he’s running interference to make sure no one does. and noah put up an anti-scrying spell this morning. we’re all good.”

derek met her gaze and nodded, smiling at her. for whatever reason, kira was taking security more seriously than he was today, which was truly a feat. he had to imagine it had a lot to do with all of the precious and oblivious parties on the farm today. “thank you. have glenn, isaac and evie check the wards and the spell again in about two hours. did you get a chance to call your parents?”

kira shook her head, helping him spread out the food. “not yet. time difference; they’re not even up yet. i was going to call them around dinner time.” she shrugged a bit. “it’s a little weird being without them.”

his smile grew a little sad but understanding. “i know. do you think you want to go out to visit them for christmas?”

kira blinked, not having expected the question. “i... haven’t thought about it. i don’t know if glenn and i have the money for th... no,” she said, seeing the look in derek’s eyes. “no. i’m not asking you to send me to korea, derek.”

“you didn’t ask,” he pointed out. “and you don’t have to say anything now. you have a month. if you change your mind between now and then, just let me know. ...what?”

“you’re very sweet,” kira teased, eyes shining as she grinned up at him. “your love language is giving people things and acts of service. i think that’s amazing.”

he smiled sarcastically at her. “go away.”

with that dismissal, kira giggled and left to find her brother and tell him about the upcoming shift change. smile returning, derek chuckled and soaked in the joy that flooded the atmosphere. laughter from several members of the pack, jeremy’s excited shrieks as he won another round of mario kart against damaris and daryl ( whose defense was that he’d never played before, jeremy clearly had an unfair advantage, okay ) and some others, t-dog helping groom the horses, nana showing natalie and andrew her recipe for sweet potato pie, and so many other noises derek had never expected to hear at once.

it’d been quite al ong time since he’d been in a lively place for the holiday. and, thinking back on it, his pack hadn’t been quite this big before. but they were filled to the brim now, full of elders and teens and children, witches and kumiho, emissaries, even hunters, his living sisters and cousins and nephew. this was a pack he’d never dreamed of having, but he loved them all so fully, it swallowed him whole and he happily allowed it.

#gen. : ❛ pack !#evt. : ❛ pack events !#par. : ❛ pack paras !#tit. : ❛ like a rainbow with all of the colors !#scn. : ❛ packsgiving !

5 notes · View notes

mikauzoran · 5 years

Text

Adrienette Drabble Twenty-Two: Step

(Sorry I forgot to post this yesterday.)

“You know, I seriously don’t blame Rose,” Elise snickered, setting the bowl of popcorn down on Adrien’s coffee table. “I would totally leave my boyfriend for David Tennant too.”

Adrien cast a sideways glance at his friend. “You’re seeing someone?”

Elise rolled her eyes. “No, Candy Floss. You put me into retirement.”

Adrien winced. “Sorry…about that.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Please. You have since become my dorky little brother, and I love you. It was more…after the string of boyfriends I’d had, you were just the last straw. I’m a big girl capable of making mature decisions. I’m fine.”

“I wish I were a big girl capable of making mature decisions,” he snorted. “I’m still stuck in remedial Emotions 101 courses. I can’t wait until I achieve emotional maturity.”

“You’re getting there, Adrien,” Elise gently encouraged, prodding his calf with her socked foot. “You’ve made leaps and bounds of progress in the past two weeks…. Do you have any Pop-Tarts?”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Just the box you smuggled in last time. I had to hide it in the back of the cabinet. If my dad found it…” Adrien shuddered. “For my dad, Pop-Tarts might as well be a type of drug. I might as well be hiding boxes of cocaine in my cabinet.”

Elise cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, “‘Boxes’ of cocaine?”

Adrien smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know. What does cocaine usually come in? Bottles? Vials? Jars? I know it’s not a pill—right? It’s…like…a powder?”

Elise didn’t even try to hold back her laughter. “Oh, my pure baby boy. Someone has obviously never done drugs.”

Adrien kicked Elise’s foot. “Oh, like you have?”

Elise shook her head. “No, but I’m a lot less sheltered than you are, Candy Floss. Some of the other models I’ve met have been drug users, and I dated a guy once who did drugs. I’ve been drugged once or twice at parties, but—” Elise stopped abruptly at the look of horror on Adrien’s face. She fluttered her hands ineffectually. “Candy Floss, it was fine. Someone just spiked my drink is all. I was with friends, and they took care of me, so nothing happened, and it wasn’t a big deal, so don’t even worry about it.”

“How can that not be a big deal?” he mumbled, feeling sick.

She reached out and gave his scalp a comforting rub. “Shh. This world is a rough place. It is a big deal, but if I used up mental energy on all the times something was unfair or wrong or someone tried to take advantage of me, I wouldn’t have the time or energy to enjoy the good things in my life. Like Pop-Tarts.” She smiled disarmingly. “Now, be a dear and go fetch them? Pretty please?” She batted her eyes.

Adrien sighed, letting it go. He pushed himself up from the couch. “Pop-Tarts coming right up.”

“Thank you!” Elise trilled in delight. “You are seriously the best.”

Adrien had just opened his mouth to retort when his phone on the coffee table began to ring. “If it’s Nino, could you pick up and tell him we’re busy?”

Elise bit her lip. “It’s not Nino.”

Adrien arched and eyebrow. “Who is it?”

Elise looked anxious. “…Marinette.”

Adrien cursed, hoping over the back of the couch to land on the seat. He looked between his phone and Elise in utter panic. “What do I do?”

“Answer your phone,” Elise snorted in exasperation.

“But what if she called me by mistake?” Adrien squeaked. “What if she didn’t mean to call me and I pick up and it’s really awkward and she doesn’t want to talk to me? I will be crushed, Elise. Crushed. Gutted. Absolutely gutted. Yeah, I’ve been getting a lot better recently, but I’m still insanely in love with her, and I haven’t built up enough resilience to be able to take rejection again.”

“I swear, Adrien,” Elise grumbled, reaching for the phone. “You’re almost as bad as her when it comes to catastrophizing. I’m going to do you a favor.”

Elise picked up the phone and answered the call before Adrien could tackle her and put a stop to it. “Hi there, M&M! It’s Elise. How are you doing, Sweetie?”

Marinette nearly dropped her phone. “E-Elise?” She’d psyched herself up so much to talk to Adrien again that her subverted expectations had her panicking. “I…uh…I called…why are…where is…?”

“I’m actually over at Adrien’s house,” Elise confessed, helping the poor girl out. “I was getting ready to leave,” she lied, “and I asked to borrow this book he was talking about, but it’s in the study or the library or whatever those rich people call it, so he went to go fetch it.”

Adrien frowned and mouthed, “What are you doing?”, anxiety plain and clear on his face.

Elise ignored him. “I’m sorry for answering his phone like this, but he left it sitting on the coffee table, and when I saw it was you, I figured I should pick up because I know how much he misses you.”

Adrien made an x with his arms and shook his head violently.

Marinette made a choking sound on the other end of the line. “M-Misses…me?”

“Of course, Sweetie. You two are best friends, and he hasn’t seen you in weeks. I’m doing my best to fill in, but I’m a poor substitute,” Elise laughed airily.

Adrien frowned, a sad look in his eyes. Elise could almost hear him say, “That’s not true”.

She waved away his concern on her behalf. “I’m sure he’d be delighted to talk to you as soon as he gets back from getting the book and sees me out the door. Did you need something in particular, Marinette, or can I just have him call you back after I leave?”

“Oh…uh…It was nothing in particular. I just…I miss him too. I was just calling to check in and see how he was doing…. Just…you know. Hear his voice,” Marinette explained, face going vermilion.

Elise hummed softly. “Yes. I’ve been there. I know the feeling. I’ll make sure he calls you back, Sweetie. You take care now.”

“Thanks, Elise,” Marinette mumbled.

Elise ended the call with a smirk. “She misses you too,” she snickered. “She was just calling to check in on you and because she wanted to hear the sound of your voice.”

Adrien’s face flushed. “O-Oh?”

“Candy Floss, she is so stuck on you.” Elise gave him a playful shove.

“Yeah?” Adrien chuckled, wearing an embarrassed yet pleased expression as he rubbed at his neck where the bruises were no longer visible.

“Definitely,” Elise giggled. “Okay. Now, let’s get down to business. You need to wait at least four or five minutes before you call her back.”

Adrien blanched. “Call her back?”

Elise nodded solemnly. “I said you were going to call her back. If you don’t, she’ll think I’m a bad person because I forgot to tell you, or she’ll think she’s not important to you because you didn’t care enough to actually return the call. You’re familiar with how ridiculous Marinette can get with worst-case scenarios. Save her the panic attack and call her back.”

“But…I can’t just have a phone conversation in front of you. That’s rude. We’re supposed to be hanging out and spending time together,” Adrien argued.

Elise rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Adrien, I’ll just text with Chloé or something. Don’t even worry about that.”

“But what do I say to her?” Panic ratchetted up the pitch of Adrien’s voice.

“Words. Sentences maybe. Preferably in French. Honestly,” Elise sighed. “Candy Floss, you just need to chillax and talk to her. You’ve talked to her thousands of times; you know how to do this. You talked to her well enough at the photoshoot the other week. You’re fine.”

Adrien pursed his lips, not buying it.

“If you want,” Elise offered, “put the call on speaker, and I’ll sit here with you and help you out if you get stuck on what to say.”

Adrien stared at her incredulously. “Do people do that?”

Elise shook her head slowly. “Girls do that all the time. But you’re not going to need me. You know how to talk to Marinette.”

Adrien gulped. “It feels different somehow now.”

Elise gave Adrien’s head another pat while she kept track of the time.

Once four minutes had passed, Elise picked up Adrien’s phone, unlocked it, and dialed Marinette so that there was no way for Adrien to chicken out.

“H-Hello?” Marinette greeted timidly, picking up on the first ring.

Elise pantomimed taking a deep breath.

Adrien did. “Hi, Marinette. How are you?”

Elise gave him a thumbs up.

“Oh, hi. Hi, Adrien. I’m good. I’m hanging in there,” Marinette chuckled nervously, struggling to find her footing. “How about you?”

“I’m tolerably well, actually,” Adrien replied, heart soaring at the sound of her chuckle. “Elise said you’d called? Did you need something, or…?”

Marinette gave a start. “Oh! Oh, no. I didn’t exactly need anything. I was just…I missed talking to you, and I thought…maybe now, since it’s been a couple weeks, it would be okay to check in.”

“I miss talking to you too,” Adrien confessed, his voice giving a little too much away.

Marinette flushed but did not comment. “So what have you been up to lately?”

Adrien shrugged, drawing up his knees to his chest. “Oh, lots of things. Dad has let up on the extra curriculars, so I have a lot more time now to do things I actually want to do…which, ironically, turned out to be watching dramas in Chinese, fencing with Kagami, and playing arrangements of popular music on the piano, if you can believe it. It’s more fun when I get to choose my activities myself.”

Marinette laughed along with him at this. “Oh, Adrien.”

Adrien melted. “Sometimes I can even get my dad to play four-handed pieces with me now that he’s making a conscientious effort to be a real parent.”

“That’s wonderful!” Marinette congratulated. “What else have you been doing with yourself?”

“Nathalie, Dad, and I are doing family activities. We’re having breakfast together every day and some dinners. Sometimes we watch movies or play board games. Nathalie is a bit of a card sharp, and Dad and I think she cheats at Mario Party too,” Adrien informed eagerly.

He had so much to tell her, so much to catch her up on. They’d missed a lot the past month.

“Dad and I were talking about me going back to modeling too,” he continued with more reservation.

He wasn’t sure if he should say, “so maybe we’ll be working together” or “I’m looking forward to seeing more of you at work”. He wasn’t sure if this phone call meant he was allowed out of exile yet. Maybe this was his probationary hearing. If so, he shouldn’t sound so excited about being allowed to interact with her. He had to play it cool and prove that he was stable enough to be permitted visiting rights.

“But not as much as I used to,” Adrien added instead. “I was promised no more rigid schedules, but…Dad kind of would like for me to continue to be the face of the brand.”

“And how do you feel about that?” Marinette wondered, biting her lip.

“Ambivalent,” Adrien decided. “I don’t really like modeling much. Sometimes it’s fun, but most days it’s a pain. It pays well, though, and the fame will be useful later…and Dad and I worked out a compromise. If I keep modeling at a reduced rate and go to university for Business, I’m allowed to study Theatre too.”

“What?!” Marinette squealed, jumping to her feet to bounce in glee. “Oh my gosh! Adrien, are you serious?! He’s going to let you act?!”

“Any roles I want to take have to be run by him and the marketing team to ensure compatibility with my public image, but, yes. He’s going to let me act.”

Marinette screamed in delight. “Oh my God! I am so freaking happy for you! This is wonderful! This is really, really wonderful.”

She wanted to hug him. She wanted to bake him a cake and throw him a party to celebrate, but…she wasn’t sure she could do that without crossing lines and setting them both back in their recoveries. And, of course, the matter had recently become even more complicated on her end. She couldn’t risk messing things up for all involved parties.

“Congratulations, Minou,” she whispered, voice full of conflicting emotions.

“Thanks, Princess,” Adrien purred, heart swelling at the token of intimacy he’d been rewarded with. “…So what is Milady up to recently?”

He was tired of listening to the sound of his own voice. He wanted to hear hers.

“Oh, end of high school scramble,” she sighed, collapsing back down onto her chaise. “Helping my parents. The usual blah blah blah. My internship is keeping me pretty busy too. You know, I can’t tell if your father hates me or if he wants me to succeed. I mean, he is constantly setting me up to fail, but then he looks so pleased when I manage to pull it off anyway. I don’t get him.”

“He’s trying to challenge you so you’ll have opportunities to grow,” Adrien explained. “At least, that’s what it sounds like when he talks about you.”

“You think?” Marinette sighed. “Maybe that’s a part of it, but I seriously think he derives a sadistic pleasure from watching me struggle.”

Adrien hummed thoughtfully before admitting, “Yeah. Okay. That may be part of it too, but I’ve specifically told him I will never forgive him if he bullies you because of me, so if he’s being a jerk—you know, outside of the normal parameters of figuratively being a boss from hell—tell me, and I will casually remind him not to mess with you.”

“Thanks,” Marinette chuckled tiredly. “It’s not like that, though. He’s tough, and he makes me work hard, but he’s not cruel. He’s not completely unreasonable. Not unreasonably unreasonable, I mean. He’s definitely unreasonable, but he’s not unreasonable to just me. It’s been a good experience working with him.”

“I think you are the only person on the face of this earth with that opinion,” Adrien chortled. “I don’t even think Nathalie would agree with you, and she’s marrying him.”

“…What?” Marinette sat up, pulled the phone away from her ear, and stared at it.

“…Oh.” Adrien frowned. “God, it has been forever since I last talked to you. My parents are getting married in a couple months. After years of me badgering Nathalie, they’re finally getting married completely out of the blue.”

“Wow,” Marinette mumbled, shocked. “Wow. That’s… Congratulations. You must be really excited.”

“I am,” Adrien chuckled, unable to keep from grinning. “It feels like, after years of being an orphan to my father’s grief over losing my mother, I finally have a family again. It’s really—” Adrien’s voice caught in his throat unexpectedly at the overflow of emotions. “It’s really nice,” he finished. “After watching you guys and your families over the years, it’s nice to finally feel like I have one too. Like…you have no idea what it feels like to finally have something that you’ve wanted so bad while everyone else just took it for granted.”

“Oh, Minou,” Marinette cooed.

He could almost feel her arms around him from the tenderness in her voice.

“Oh, Adrien,” she whispered. “I am so happy that things are finally falling into place for you. You deserve this. You’ve deserved this all along, and it just killed me that there was nothing I could do to give it to you.”

Her hands ached to run through his hair. She wanted to hold him and nuzzle his neck. It almost physically hurt not to be able to touch him.

“Thanks,” Adrien chuckled, recovering his composure. “So…aren’t you working on the new Gabriel bridal line?”

“Oh my gosh!” Marinette sucked in a long breath. “Is this what that’s for?!”

Adrien laughed harder. “Yeah. Dad thought it would be a good publicity stunt. Nathalie is not thrilled. …Have you seen the best man’s suit?”

“Yes?” Marinette cocked her head to the side, wondering what he was getting at.

“That’s me…so you should design yourself a dress to match.”

Elise flicked Adrien’s arm and shook her head.

Adrien looked back at his friend in innocent confusion. “Er…is it too early to ask you to be my date?”

Elise buried her face in her hands, whispering, “‘Plus one’. Not ‘date’.”

“Or we could just go as friends if you’d rather be my plus one,” Adrien attempted to correct. “I just thought that in a few months… Sorry. Um…maybe I should ask you again closer to time?”

Marinette did not respond.

Adrien paled. “Sorry. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to… Look, you’re probably invited anyway. We don’t have to go together. You don’t even have to associate with me if you somehow still need space in a few months. I just assumed…”

Elise grabbed Adrien’s arm and whispered, “Candy Floss, slow down and breathe. Play it cool.”

Adrien nodded, breathing in time with Elise.

“Sorry,” Marinette finally replied. “I’m sorry. I don’t… I was thinking about…” The dress she would design to match his suit. The delicate purples and blues and greys of the wedding’s color palette and the butterfly and peacock theme.

She had been thinking about Adrien. Adrien in that suit…Adrien out of that suit…and the intervening stages between the two.

“I don’t know yet,” Marinette answered honestly. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

“I’m getting better, you know,” Adrien mumbled sullenly. “I wish you could see that.”

“I can,” Marinette assured. “I can tell just from talking to you that you seem happier than you have been since you decided to give up on—” She broke off suddenly as she remembered that it was she who had kicked off this dark time in his life.

“Yeah, but the problem is that you haven’t talked to me in forever,” Adrien pressed. “I know Nino and Alya are probably keeping you in the loop, but how are you going to be able to tell when I’m good enough if you don’t talk to me?”

“Good enough?” Marinette echoed. “What do you mean ‘good enough’?”

For you to want to be with me, was on the tip of his tongue.

Elise squeezed his bicep.

Adrien took a breath. “You know. Well enough,” he explained in an attempt not to look pathetic. “Better.”

Marinette was quiet for a moment.

Adrien could hear her inhale deeply and slowly release the breath before she responded, “Adrien, I know you have no way of knowing this, but I’m kind of a wreck. Not just right now but in general. Sometimes have been better than others, but you’re not the only one who needs to work on yourself. I’ve got a lot that I’m sorting through, and I need some time on my own to get things straight. I know you think I’m wonderful, but I’m telling you right now that I suck, and I don’t have things as together as I might pretend to in public. You’re not the only one with issues. You are not the only reason a relationship isn’t a good idea right now. I am at least half the problem…and I’m sorry I’m not better. I know I’m really letting you down, especially lately.”

She was right. He had been feeling let down by her lack of presence in his life when he most needed her support, but he wasn’t about to tell her that to her face.

“No, Princess,” he whispered. “You’re fine. You’re perfect, so don’t worry about it. I’ll be here when you’re ready for me.”

Guilt drenched Marinette like a tidal wave. Her voice stuck in her throat.

“So…” Adrien sighed when enough time had passed to be able to tell that Marinette was not going to respond. “I’m guessing you wouldn’t be interested in getting coffee together and catching up?”

“No,” Marinette replied in a small voice. “I don’t think that would be a good idea right now.”

She couldn’t see him and not touch him, and she knew that as soon as she touched him, they’d happily fall over into the abyss together. And Marinette wasn’t free to do that.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” Adrien grumbled, some of his frustration leaking into his voice.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“…And…am I allowed to call you now or text you or…? No?” he tried.

She bit her lip. “Not texting. Maybe…if you want to call me from time to time…I can’t promise that I’ll always pick up, but…”

His heart broke a little. Was she just saying that to placate him? Would he call and call and call and never get a response? That’s kind of what it sounded like, but maybe he was being overly pessimistic.

“Okay,” he agreed because what other choice did he have?

There was silence and pain.

Elise wrapped an arm around him and pulled him in to rest his head on her shoulder.

He snuggled into her neck.

She gave him a squeeze.

“…So…” Marinette spoke tentatively. “Have you done anything fun lately?”

He sighed and accepted her attempt to return the levity to their conversation. “I mean, yeah. I’ve been hanging out with friends a lot, trying to get out of the house. Keeping busy. Actually, on Thursday, I went with Elise, Nino, Chloé, and Kagami to a karaoke bar, and that was a ton of fun.”

“That’s…an unusual assortment of people,” Marinette replied, blinking in amazement.

“Nino’s putting up with Chloé for my sake and vice versa, but I think they’re starting to come to an understanding,” Adrien explained. “Chloé and Kagami might be bonding over a shared dislike of you, though,” he shamefacedly admitted.

“I see.” Marinette grimaced. “I can’t say that I’m surprised. Oh well. So long as you’re all having fun together.”

“We are,” Adrien confirmed. “Thursday was pretty great. We sang a lot of eighties songs. Elise is a fan, so…and Nino and Chloé were a little drunk, so they went with it. Kagami was a surprisingly good sport. She’s actually a karaoke champ…and can really hold her liquor.”

“What did you sing?” Marinette giggled, curling up on her chaise and hugging her throw pillow to her chest.

“Madonna’s Like a Prayer, It’s Raining Men with Elise and Chloé, Bonnie Tyler’s Holding Out for a Hero—You know, after I sang that, some guy in his late twenties came up to me and offered to be my hero,” Adrien snickered.

“Oh my gosh!” Marinette cackled. “No!”

“Yes!” Adrien insisted. “He was all over me. Back at the table, I could see Nino getting ready to march over and fight the guy. Kagami had to hold him back.”

“What happened? What did you say?” Marinette prompted.

“I was kind of stunned. I mean, guys have flirted with me before, but…usually they don’t get so into my space. I sort of just went with it and flirted back a little?” Adrien admitted, blushing anew at the memory of the other man’s hand on his hip, on his butt.

“What?” Marinette choked.

“Apparently I still struggle with saying no to unsolicited affection,” Adrien groaned. “The attention was kind of nice, especially since I’ve been feeling so low lately, but then he told me he was secretly Chat Noir and invited me back to his place to show me all the different tricks he could do with his baton—”

“—You are not serious—”

“—and I told him that I’d slept with Chat Noir before and that Chat actually preferred to be on the receiving end of things.”

Marinette burst out laughing. “You didn’t!!! You didn’t!”

“I totally did,” Adrien snickered proudly.

“And what did he say?!” Marinette demanded.

“He asked if I was serious, and I said yes.” Adrien shrugged. “Then I excused myself and went back to singing.”

“I cannot believe that,” Marinette snorted.

“Why not? I mean, he was cute, but I don’t sleep with guys, so at that point there was no point in talking to him anymore. I didn’t want to lead him on or anything.”

“I can’t believe you got hit on like that,” Marinette rephrased.

“You would if you had seen what I was wearing,” Adrien teased. “The first word out of Nino’s mouth when he saw me was, ‘Meowzzah’.”

Marinette broke into a giggle fit all over again.

“Seriously. Chat Noir isn’t the only guy whose butt looks good in leather pants. And the shirt I was wearing was so tight and so thin, it might as well have been body paint. Chloé dressed me, and Elise did my makeup. The words ‘sex kitten’ might have gotten tossed around a little. Nino started it, but Kagami and Chloé quickly picked it up.”

“And your father let you leave the house like that?” Marinette scoffed.

“Chloé made me change at her house…but I’m sure my dad has seen photos by now, so I’m really wondering why I haven’t been grounded yet. I mean, he’s gotten dramatically more chill this past month, but I know I crossed a line Thursday. Maybe Nathalie interceded on my behalf or something? God forbid he actually let me go out there and make my own choices…I think. I don’t know. The rules seem to have changed lately, but I haven’t received an updated copy of the rulebook yet. Dad’s been reading a lot of parenting guidebooks, so maybe…I don’t know. I had a lot of fun, though, and if he wants to ground me later, that’s fine. At least I got to have fun like a normal eighteen-year-old for a little while.”

Marinette hummed thoughtfully. “I’m glad you got to have fun…. Did you sing anything else?”

“Total Eclipse of the Heart with Nino at Elise’s insistence,” Adrien chuckled, eagerly slipping back into the narrative. “And I actually got some requests from total strangers too, so I ended up singing a lot more than I had intended. The crowd seemed into it, though. I’m sure there are photos and videos on the internet because people definitely recognized me. Like I said, I’m surprised I haven’t gotten in trouble yet.”

“What did you tell your father you were doing?” Marinette had to wonder.

Adrien smirked. “Going to do karaoke with friends. I might have given him the impression that I would be doing so in a private room, but…I was surprised that he said yes in the first place.”

“That…Yeah…” Marinette muttered, trying to wrap her head around a Gabriel Agreste who was not unreasonable, domineering, and controlling.

“Have you done anything fun recently, Princess?” Adrien’s voice brought her back into the conversation. “I know you said you were super busy, but have you managed to squeeze something purely enjoyable into your schedule?”

Marinette blushed, guilt surging up her sternum. “I’m…yeah. Yeah, I have. You know that band that Rose and Ivan are in?”

“Kitty Section? What about it?”

“Well, I’ve been hanging out with them a lot. I’ve been working on promotional posters, new costumes, their album cover…going to get crêpes with the band…going dancing with the band. Jagged sent me tickets for his concert the other night, and I went with…with Luka, the guitarist. You remember Juleka’s older brother Luka?”

Adrien perked up. “Of course I remember Luka. He gave me guitar lessons for a while. He’s super cool!”

“Yeah, well, Luka was the only one able to go, so…so I went to the concert with Luka, and we got dinner and went for a walk afterwards, and…I had a really nice time. It was fun,” Marinette whispered almost plaintively.

Elise shifted uncomfortably, picking up on something that Adrien had missed.

Adrien lifted his head from her shoulder to give her a quirked eyebrow and a questioning look.

Elise smiled reassuringly, shaking her head and pulling him back into her.

Adrien settled against her and easily dismissed the incident.

“That’s good, Marinette,” Adrien replied cheerily. “I’m glad you got to do something fun, even though you’re really busy.”

“Y-Yeah. Thanks,” Marinette responded, an uncertainty to her voice. “Actually, I’ve been hanging out with Luka a lot lately. And the others, of course, but…Luka and I have been friends for a while; I just haven’t been spending a lot of time with him the past few years for one reason or another, but…recently I’ve been thinking it would be good to reconnect with him and a couple of my other old friends, so…Luka and I have been reconnecting.”

“That’s good!” Adrien encouraged. “I’ve been doing the same thing with Chloé and Kagami and Wayem, and I think that’s really helped me, widening my support system…. You know, it’s been a while since I’ve hung out with Luka too. Maybe once you and I are okay again, you, Luka, and I can all do something together.”

Marinette went stock still.

Elise squeezed Adrien a little tighter, sighing quietly as she nuzzled his hair.

“I’d love to see him.” Adrien chattered on obliviously. “I’ve always kind of had a platonic crush on him. He’s super cool.”

“Haha. Yeah,” Marinette laughed through her internal panic. “I’m sure…I’m sure Luka would love to see you too. He thinks you’re really interesting—Listen, it’s been great talking with you, Adrien, but I have to go,” Marinette informed hurriedly.

“Oh,” Adrien replied softly in disappointment. “Well—”

“—Take care, okay?” Marinette cut him off in her rush to escape before she could be found out and end up hurting him even more. “I’m so glad things are going well. I miss you.”

She rang off before he could get a word in edgewise.

Adrien blinked down at the phone for a beat before lifting his head to blink at Elise. “What do you think that was about?”

Elise ruffled Adrien’s hair. “Oh, you know Marinette,” she chuckled nervously. “She’s such a spazz. She probably forgot she was supposed to be helping her parents or she left something in the oven too long or she suddenly remembered she needed to cancel her Netflix subscription or…you know.”

Adrien shrugged, sitting up. “Yeah. I am intimately acquainted with the varied ways Marinette can be a total spazz…but I think that went well, don’t you?” He looked up at his friend cheerfully, eyes sparkling in excitement.

Elise smiled sadly, muttering a subdued, “Yeah. Yeah, that went great, Candy Floss. I’m proud of you.”

Adrien frowned interrogatively. “What?”

Elise shook her head. “Nothing.”

“No. Seriously. What?” Adrien repeated. “What’s that look for? What did I screw up?”

Elise shook her head again. “Nothing. It’s not you. It’s…”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him what she suspected. She hoped she was wrong.

Elise wrapped her arms around him in a boa constrictor squeeze as she assured, “You did great. I can tell what good friends you and Marinette are, how close you are. Your friendship will weather this, Candy Floss. You’re going to get through this,” she whispered, praying she was right.

“Yeah,” Adrien agreed, nuzzling her auburn hair and relishing the easy affection. “I’m a lot better already. I’ll be ready when Marinette is. Thanks for your help, Lise.”

“Anytime.” Elise gave Adrien another squeeze and let him go. “Ready for another episode of Doctor Who?”

Adrien checked his phone for the time. “Aren’t we supposed to be memorizing tendons and ligaments and stuff? For your test on Tuesday?”

Elise frowned. “But…David Tennant.”

“But…your scholarship,” Adrien echoed, trying to keep from smiling. “Don’t make me have to pay for your med school. You know I’ll do it.”

Elise hissed like a cat. “Don’t you dare. I would never let you,” she scolded. “That is not the reason I’m friends with you, Adrien Agreste.”

“I know,” Adrien tittered. “That’s why I’d gladly do it. I don’t have a lot of people like you and Nino in my life. I want to take care of you like you take care of me…and financial backing is one way I can do that.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Shut your pie hole and go and get me the Pop-Tarts. I need sugar to study for my test.” She grabbed her bag from under the coffee table and pulled out her textbook.

(So, I invited the readers on AO3 to try their hand at writing the “missing” karaoke chapter. I think I have one taker so far. In the alternative, I invite you to take a stab at drawing Adrien’s karaoke outfit. ^.^)

#Adrienette #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Adrien Agreste #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Mikau's Writings #There's a Daisy

10 notes · View notes

starryeyed-char · 7 years

Text

On Your Marks

More of the YouTuber AU!!! Find this series here on my AO3.

This is more fluff, but don’t worry I have a lot of angsty plans for this, too. Plus, lots of unrelated things coming up are also full of angst. So look forward to that, I guess. Or don’t, depending on how you look at it.

This particular one-shot features Lance, Keith, and Hunk all making an appearance on Pidge’s channel, and the four of them play Mario Kart. As you can probably guess, they all take it pretty seriously. ...hopefully you won’t be confused if you’ve never played the game.

“Hello, fellow nerds, and welcome to Pidge Plays,” Pidge began in a deadpan voice, staring at the camera blankly. “Today we're playing a game from one of the most haunting periods of the human race— Lance's childhood.”

“Wow, what a great way to introduce guests on your channel, Pidge. I could learn a thing or two from you,” Lance said, with obvious false cheer.

“As you guys can see, I have visitors,” they swept their hand at the three other people seated on the couch. “Hunk and Lance's channels will be in the description, but don't check them out because they suck. Keith's not actually a YouTuber, but you guys seemed to want him here, anyway.”

“I only came because Lance said you needed a fourth player,” Keith muttered under his breath.

“If you, for some reason, neglected to read the title to this video, then we're playing Mario Kart!” Hunk finally spoke up, doing jazz hands. Pidge shot him an unimpressed glare.

“I could be continuing my Undertale Let's Play,” they grumbled. “But nooo! If I want to get invited to come bake with Hunk, I have to let you guys come into my house and play Wii!”

“Don't... don't you mean Wii U?”

“Keith, you poor uneducated swine,” Pidge started, earning a snort from Lance. “Yes, there is a Wii U version of Mario Kart. And I, naturally, am a beast at it. But the original Wii version is much better, so that's what we're playing.”

“I like the newer one better,” Keith claimed, sitting back on the couch with his arms crossed.

“Well, you're on my channel now, bitch,” Pidge declared with a grin. “And I'm not gonna let you do whatever the hell you want, unlike loverboy over here.”

Lance pointedly ignored their comment. “He just likes the newer one because we own it, and he's managed to beat me at it, like, once.”

“The Wii U version has underwater races, and parts where you get to fly!” Keith argued. “And more characters!”

“Keith Kogane, Mario Kart elitist,” Pidge said flatly.

“Sorry, Keith, but the original is way better. You'll see,” Hunk started up the game, going through the motions of the menu. “Solo or Team?”

“Keith and I make a pretty good team,” Lance smirked at his boyfriend. “But he never does anything.”

“We're doing solo races, asshats,” Pidge seized the Player One remote from Hunk as they said this, making the settings as hard as they could possibly go.

“I'm better at Battles,” Hunk informed them mournfully, as the character select screen appeared. He almost immediately chose Baby Mario, while Pidge's cursor was on Toad in a heartbeat. The two of them had clearly played this game numerous times before.

Lance stalled in favor of watching Keith with an amused expression.

“This is why we should've played the other one,” Keith grumbled. “The character I like to use isn't even here!”

“What, Shy Guy? With the creepy mask and red cloak?” Lance failed to repress a laugh. “Oh man, what a shame. You could just be Bowser instead. He's angry, and breathes fire. The villain of the story. Definitely gives off a you vibe, don't you think?”

Keith rolled his eyes, and selected a different character. “I'll just be him.”

“What the f—?! But Koopa Troopa is my character, Keith!”

“You don't have to censor yourself on my channel, Lance. I curse all the time,” Pidge assured him, stifling a laugh.

Keith looked like he was trying not to betray his own amusement. “You wanted me to be a turtle, didn't you?”

“Yes, but not my turtle!” Lance exclaimed, exasperated. He eyed the screen again, and sighed dramatically. “Pidge, can't you be Toadette? Toad is my second favorite, and they're basically the same.”

Pidge narrowed their eyes. “Fuck you. I'll be whatever gender mushroom person I want. If they're so similar, why don't you be Toadette?!”

Lance tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully. “If I'm going to be a girl character, then it's go big or go home,” he decided, moving his cursor over to Rosalina. “Literally.”

“Oh, not Rosalina!” Hunk complained. “The star is so distracting, and not just for you, man!”

“The star is cool,” Lance insisted. “Besides, you guys forced me into this.”

Pidge nodded grudgingly. “As long as you're not Princess Peach. I've had enough of racing against her to last me a life time.”

At Lance's confused look, Hunk elaborated. “Shiro and Allura were here the other week to play this on a live-stream. Allura decided to play as Princess Peach, and she was... unusually good at the game, for a beginner.”

“So who was Shiro, then?” Keith asked curiously.

“Funky Kong,” Pidge supplied. “At least he made an effort to be ironic with his choice.”

Lance scoffed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey, you're using Rosalina,” Pidge pointed out. “Anyway, what races should we do? There are four in a cup, so we all pick one.”

“Koopa Cape,” Lance said immediately. “It's the best one.” Pidge nodded appreciatively, and selected the race.

“So, what're we playing for, anyways?” Hunk asked as he maneuvered around a particularly sharp turn. “Other than just bragging rights?”

“Do we honestly need anything other than bragging rights?” Lance grinned as his character rocketed to the front of the pack.

“I was thinking that whoever loses has to pay for the pizza we get,” Pidge suggested. “Assuming you guys want pizza.”

“Now I wish we had pizza with us, like, right now,” Hunk complained. “But seems fair to me.”

“Are you guys serious?” Keith groaned. He was nearing the back after getting a false start. “That basically guarantees I'll be paying for it!”

“Don't you mean I'll be paying for it?” Lance glared at Keith before fixing his eyes on the screen once again. “This idiot didn't even remember bring his wallet, so I'm going to have to pay for him, as usual. Still love him though, even if he's completely hopeless.”

Keith slumped further into the couch, blushing.

“You two sicken me,” Pidge declared. “But, yeah, sorry Lance you'll probably end up paying. Ooh, hey, second lap!”

They didn't make it very far past the starting line again before Lance had bumped both Keith and Pidge off the side of the cliff, sending their racers into the water below.

“That's cheating!” Keith exclaimed angrily, turning his wheel so forcefully that his newly resurrected turtle drove directly into a wall.

Lance merely shrugged, still in first place. “Hey, don't look at me. You guys are the ones that decided to be small characters, and as a large character, I can easily knock you off the course. Not my problem.”

“How about I just knock you off the couch?” Pidge asked, kicking Lance in the back to send him onto the floor. They were somehow still in third place, even after dying.

“Hey!” Lance protested. “Real life interference is cheating!”

“Why don't you knock Hunk off?” Keith demanded, now managing to race backwards. He was quickly in last place. “He's the one in second, and Baby Mario is a small character, too! If I lose, you'll be the one paying!”

“You're going to lose anyway,” Lance pointed out. “And why would I ever knock Hunk off? I need him there to intercept all the items the computer tries to throw at me.”

“I feel so loved,” Hunk sighed. “Luckily, I keep getting bananas.”

“Intercept this,” Pidge said suddenly, and they all heard the telltale sound-effect of a blue shell taking flight.

“No!” Lance desperately zigzagged around the course, trying to race faster despite his lack of mushrooms, as if he could somehow outrun it. “But I had a lead! How could you do this to me, Pidge?”

Pidge just cackled in response as the winged shell exploded on Lance, giving them just enough time to pass both him and Hunk, winding up in first place. Pidge stood on the couch, holding their Wii remote up high.

“What's next?” Hunk asked, patting Lance on the back, who was still scowling into his bowl of chips.

Keith scanned the names of the races. “Well... Moonview Highway sounds kind of fun?”

“Absolutely not,” Pidge and Lance said at the exact same time.

“Keith hasn't played this version before, and therefore should be stripped of all voting rights,” Lance decided. “Moonview Highway is an abomination.”

“Not as bad as Grumble Volcano, but agreed,” Pidge nodded. “Hunk, you choose the next race.”

“Maple Treeway?”

Lance bolted straight up. “No. Pidge knows all these crazy shortcuts on that one! They'll destroy us all!”

“Too late. We're doing Maple Treeway. This is my channel, and if you don't like it, then go back to your own.”

“Rude,” Lance sniffed, but he picked up his controller and started racing anyways.

“If you think Pidge cheated, tell us in the comments,” Lance stage-whispered to the camera. They were still doing a victory dance around the living room in time with the music from the game. Pidge, of course, had won, with Lance and Hunk coming in second and third, respectively.

“I hate this game,” Keith mumbled. He came in twelfth place. Out of twelve.

“Let's do a Battle, then!” Hunk suggested. “Coin Runners! Lance and I against you two.”

“You're pairing me up with Keith?” Pidge squawked, incredulous. “He'll drag the team down. He won't be able to get a single coin! I'll lose for sure.”

“Hey!”

“You're more than capable of carrying the team, Pidge,” Lance waved a hand dismissively. “I might even go easy on you.” He winked at Keith, who promptly ignored him.

“We're the red team,” Keith decided, and Pidge nodded eagerly.

“That makes us blue, buddy,” Lance grinned at Hunk, and high-fived him. “We got this.”

Lance and Hunk won by a long-shot, as Hunk was much better at Battles than Pidge, and Keith was absolutely hopeless at steering. Pidge turned off the Wii before their victory ceremony, however, to prevent Lance from doing a dance of his own.

“Alright, well, screw my plans for next week,” Pidge decided, pointing in all of their faces. “You three are coming over again, along with Shiro and Allura. I demand a rematch, and we're doing it tournament style. The winner between us will play the two of them. Team Versus racing, and I refuse to team up with Keith.”

Lance dusted off his shoulders with a smirk. “Don't worry, Pidge, we'll—”

“I meant that I want to team up with Hunk,” Pidge interrupted bluntly, giving him a high five as they said so.

Lance clutched his chest. “I'm wounded!” Hunk smiled apologetically.

“Sorry, Lance,” Keith shrugged. “Guess you're stuck with me.”

“I always am,” he huffed, before leaning closer to his boyfriend and speaking in an exaggerated whisper. “Don't worry, Keith, my little sister still owns the game. We'll make sure you're actually somewhat decent at it by next week.”

“Can't wait,” Keith deadpanned, far from thrilled at the prospect of spending the next week racing against Lance's fifteen-year-old sister.

“So we're all in?” Pidge asked excitedly, and the three of them nodded.

“Believe me, I'd never miss a chance to destroy you guys at Mariokart,” Lance laughed, and stood to walk out the door. “Now, let's go get some pizza.”

233 notes · View notes