#whatarubberchicken

[binart]

Lance has an immediate need to put on the uniform so he can see how cool he looks, doesn't he.

he absolutely does and SO DO WE B^) DFJGLDKFGD

[braincoins]

Hi, I'm new here, but I saw your request for prompts and had to ask. What do you think of Shallura, with Shiro showing some flying tricks to the inexperienced Allura? I loved their chaotic energy at the end of season 1 and would like to see more, but with Allura in Blue.

Shiro stared at her for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Of course, Princess. I’d be glad to help.”

She glanced around. “Don’t say that so loudly, please.”

“We’re the only ones on the bridge.”

“Coran’s hearing is excellent.”

“Coran is at the other end of the Castle.”

“Please.” She folded her hands in front of her demurely. “Just don’t say it so loudly.”

“I’ll... be more careful, Princess.”

She huffed. “And how many times must I ask you to call me ‘Allura’?”

“At least once more, clearly. Come on, let’s use Blue to practice.”

“Not Black?”

“Not Black,” he agreed. 

“I can pilot any Lion,” she reminded him.

“Blue will be... friendlier.” 

So they went to the Blue Lion’s hangar. Initially the Lion seemed to ignore them. 

“I just want to practice,” Allura explained. “I would never take you away from Lance.”

And only then did the Lion lay down and open its mouth to let them in. 

“I still say we could have practiced in Black.”

“You don’t know Black,” Shiro replied. As the seat moved back, he gestured to it grandly. “Princess.”

She rolled her eyes at his continued insistence on using her title, but took the seat. It moved forward to piloting position, and Shiro came to stand - well, he was bent over a little - behind the seat. 

“What are you having trouble with?”

“I don’t know, just... well, not everything, but it’s so different to the Castle.”

“Let’s launch first and then we can start working on it.”

“Oh, right.” She took firm hold of the control sticks, and... nothing. More nothing for a few more ticks, and only then did Blue launch from its bay out into open space.

“Did you do that, or did Blue?” he asked.

“I... I think it was Blue,” she admitted.

“Okay, well, we’re out here now, so hopefully Blue will let you learn on your own. Now, tell me more about the problems you’re having.”

She went into detail about the differences between the Castle and the Lions, most of which Shiro could have guessed. There was obviously going to be a huge difference between a command ship and a fighter, even setting aside the bonding requirement.

“You are bonding with the Lion first, yes?”

She shifted in her seat. “I’m... not really sure how to. I mean, I managed it once, but that was the heat of battle, I was desperate, and it just felt like it happened, not like something I did. Besides, I don’t want to... I mean, it feels... wrong to try to do that.”

“You’re not overriding our bonds to our Lions,” he assured her. “This is a bond you have with them already, because of whatever it was King Alfor did. It’s different.” He laid his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about that.”

She smiled at him, just a little. “You’re sure?”

“Very. Blue wasn’t even going to let us in until you let her know you weren’t trying to replace Lance. The Lions wouldn’t let you do something like that. So don’t be afraid to establish your own bond with them.”

She closed her eyes, apparently set on working on that immediately. He smiled a little wider, watching her, letting himself notice all over again how beautifully regal she looked whenever she did... anything.

“Oh!” Her eyes flew open. “I... I can feel Blue now!” She looked to Shiro. “You’re right; she’s very friendly.”

“Try some basic maneuvers first, and if it goes well, I’ll show you a trick or two I learned in flight school.”

Her eyes lit up and she refocused on piloting. Whether it was her now-established bond, the dangling of that particular carrot, or both, she did well, and the Blue Lion swooped and dove through the inky blackness of space.

“How’s that?” she asked.

“Very good. Now, I’ve already learned how to adapt this to Lion controls...” He laid his hands over hers on the sticks, squeezing lightly when he needed to, but mostly doing very gentle pushing - not really moving anything, just to give an idea of the movement that would be needed - to illustrate the move. “Blue will probably do this even more elegantly than Black would, and not just because it’s a smaller Lion.”

“Oh? What’s the other reason?”

“Because someone more elegant is piloting,” he said. 

She blushed. “Shiro, how can you give me such beautiful compliments and still not use my name?”

“This is flying practice time,” he said instead of answering. Because the answer to that was Using your title is all that keeps me from showering you with compliments every time I open my mouth. Because I need the reminder that you are above me, beyond me, or I’ll get my hopes too high. “And it’s not just a compliment: it’s the truth. You... you do everything elegantly, Princess. And the attitude of the pilot matters a lot more than you’d think. Think about how Keith flies versus how Hunk flies, for example. They’re both very physical pilots, but Keith favors get in and get out quick, where Hunk tends to just ram forward. They have different approaches, and part of that is down to the type of Lion they each have, but it’s also down to their personalities.

“You, Princess, will bring your elegance to every Lion you fly.”

Was it his imagination, or were her eye marks glowing a little? “And you, my paladin, are a warrior poet.”

“Try the maneuver,” he told her, feeling his own cheeks heat now. There was something about the way she said it - “my paladin” - that made him smile.

And, as he’d expected, she pulled it off...more or less. “I don’t think that was terribly elegant.”

“Well, you’ll get there in time,” he promised her. “With practice.”

She did it a few more times, and already he could see that promise coming true some day. They headed back to the hangar.

“Thank you for your help, Shiro,” she said once they were back aboard the Castle. “I... appreciate it more than I can say.”

“You know you can ask me for help anytime, Princess. With anything.”

“I know that you’re willing to help,” she agreed, “but it’s the actual asking that’s hard for me.” She released the control sticks and leaned back in the seat. “Just getting the words out is hard sometimes. I’m... not used to needing help, let alone asking for it.”

“You’ll get there in time. With practice.” He grinned at her.

She snorted and shook her head. “Says the man who won’t even call me by my name.” The seat pulled back in preparation for her to stand.

But Shiro took the opportunity to drop to one knee in front of her, a knight - a paladin - kneeling before his princess. He made sure he was looking her in the eye when he said, “You can ask me for anything, Allura.”

Her eye marks were definitely glowing now, and she smiled. “Thank you, Shiro. For everything.”

[artsy-alice]

Hey! I saw all your spots for the November kofi run are taken, and I'm super, super happy for you! Do you know when you might do another one, or when you'll have commissions open? I have a couple of OCs that are begging to be brought to life and I think your style would be perfect!

Thank you! <3

I’m not sure on the Ko-fi run, but as for commissions, I hope to open them up by February! ^^)/

[banana-boomboom]

Sweet Sixteen by whatarubberchicken

Rated T - Words 5,653

The night of your sixteenth birthday, it's said that you dream of your soulmate. For Ladybug and Chat Noir, it gets a bit more complicated than that. Love Square fluff. 

not my fic. just an amazing one everyone should read

[kittylovezine]

Zine Contribution: Writer

Why do you love Marichat? I'm a sucker for friends-to-lovers.

If you could wield any miraculous, which one would you use and why? Black Cat. I'm a hoarder, so I need the power of destruction. Plus I want Plagg.

Tumblr 

[perditaalottachocolate-blog]

Our Song

This is a story written for @whatarubberchicken for our little @lukanette-exchange . I hope you like it! A sincere thank you to @goblin-alchemist for betareading and smoothing it out at places!

AO3 / fanfiction.net

It was a warm evening in Paris, one of those that happens as the summer reaches its end. Old stones of town houses still radiated the heat they’d accumulated during July and August, but the wind carried a promise of autumn in the breeze. Street lights bloomed one by one with soft yellows and whites. The air carried tempting aromas from nearby bistros and cafes, while the Seine hummed her gentle song, unhurriedly lulling the city to sleep.

Her pink ballerinas barely made a sound, just a murmur over the susurrating water as the two of them strolled by the river. Luka tried to step as lightly although his sneakers didn’t make for a quiet walk despite the name. He really wished he could move soundlessly so that nothing disturbed the song of Marinette’s heart for him. 

The adorable laugh that spilled from her lips was like pearls clinking in the jeweler’s box. The flutter of her lashes sang of butterflies dancing over a meadow. Her silky hair moved gently in the breeze, as if it wanted to whisper a secret into her ear. The fabric of her dazzling dress flowed around her, glimmering in the scarce light provided by nearby lamps. 

She was stunningly beautiful and he still couldn’t believe that he’d been allowed to take her on a date, that he’d been blessed with her presence that evening. Just the two of them, no one else. No friends needing help, no boys diverting her attention and affection. No lies to uncover, no akumas wrecking havoc. For once, the night tucked Paris to sleep with a warm, dark blanket, allowing the two teens to enjoy each others presence.

They reached a part of the river bank hidden from the pathway and Luka halted, squeezing Marinette’s hand. He bowed in front of her.

‘May I have this dance?’ he offered with a small smile.

She snorted as if he said a joke, yet a delicious blush dusted her cheeks, proof that his advances were not in vain.

Luka waited patiently, his smile unwavering, his hand still holding her hand, thumb gently grazing over her knuckles, until her giggles died away.

‘Wait, you’re serious?’ She cast him a searching look.

‘I’m always serious when it comes to you, Marinette,’ he murmured. The one time he had quipped when she stuttered her name was enough for him to realize how fragile she could be. 

That was the thing that intrigued him, that drew him to her. There was a mystery surrounding the girl. She seemed so sweet, shy and frail, and in the next moment she became headstrong, confident, passionate. And so smart. Marinette was a mosaic of contradictions on two quite shapely legs. And while Luka felt the urge to protect her, he knew full well that she was capable of dealing with whatever threat was thrown at her. He’d seen her in action on his mother’s boat and he wholeheartedly agreed with Adrien that Marinette was the best candidate for an everyday Ladybug there could be. Hell, she was probably better than Ladybug herself, since she could handle most of the things the heroine could but without a spandex costume.

‘Will you dance with me?’ Luka reiterated, tone serious but kind.

Awkward silence and tentative shuffling of feet were his reply this time.

‘I’m not very good at dancing,’ Marinette mumbled looking at the tips of her ballerinas. ‘I trip over thin air.’

He put a thumb under her chin and coaxed her to look at him. The sight of her deep blue eyes, rimmed with the dark curtains of lashes, took his breath away. 

They stayed like this for a while, just gazing at each other. Luka broke the silence first.

‘That’s not what I’ve seen,’ he shook his head. ‘On the ice rink?’ he reminded. ‘You were plenty graceful.’

Marinette ducked her head and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She knitted her brows. ‘But… there’s no music,’ she looked to the empty bank, tucked in semi-darkness. 

He smiled brightly and leaned to whisper into her ear. ‘There’s always music.’

She shivered in his arms, but scooted closer. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the rich aroma of vanilla and butter. True to her surname Marinette smelled like bread, like a real home should have. 

‘Do you hear the waves brushing over the shoreline?’ he murmured. Their distant song was like gasps of surprise when water met stone.

She nodded lightly.

‘That’s our percussion.’ Luka slowly lifted her hands to his shoulders, encouraging her to rest them on his jacket. Her fingers clutched tentatively at the material, sending goose bumps over his skin underneath.

‘Can you hear the cars’ wheels thumping over the cobblestones? That’s our backbeat.’ He put his hands on her lower back reveling in the closeness and easiness between them.

‘And the clatter of the cutlery and glasses from that bistro?’ Marinette muttered, a teasing lilt to her voice.

‘Those are triangles and xylophones,’ he shot back without missing a beat. He never missed a beat.

He swayed gently, turning them around. Marinette yielded to his lead.

‘Now, I think I know what tune you’ll like,’ he whispered into her ear.

He started humming, and the melody came to him, soft and sweet, like the girl in his arms. The rhythm of droplets dripping from gutters into the puddles guided his steps.

Luka chuckled under his breath and shifted their position, pulling Marinette closer. He risked a glance at her face when he rotated them to the newly established rhythm. He couldn’t help but return the smile he was met with. Elated, joyful, carefree. Her eyes shone with inner light, brighter than the stars one could no longer see over Paris.

He continued to hum as they moved their feet. She tightened her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. A small sight escaped her lips. His heart betrayed him in that moment, beating wildly out of rhythm, excited she lent her ear to hear its song. His voice caught in his throat, interrupting the melody.

Silence fell over them, four heartbeats that stretched to infinity.

And then Marinette picked up the song, as if she knew it by heart, the pause only put in there on purpose. She started humming where he stopped, soft vibrations of her voice sending shivers down his spine. Her fingers slipped into his hair at the base of his neck in a soft caress. 

Luka listened, enchanted, until he trusted his voice enough to join her. He could feel that she smiled against his chest. Emboldened, he took her hand and guided her into a pirouette, then a second one, before ultimately pulling her close again. She laughed out loud, a crescendo of a lead vocal against his hum. This, too, was a perfect part of the melody.

They continued to sway, cuddled close until the music died out. Marinette withdrew enough to look at him.

‘That was amazing,’ she praised. ‘Did you write it yourself? Is this your song?’

He thought how it came to him, born from their evening together, from the warmth and coziness between them, from the fuzzy feeling blooming in his chest and the blush that adorned her cheeks. From her laugh and his smiles. From the darkness of the riverbank and the susurration of the river. It wasn’t his, even if he was the one to seize and capture it first.

‘No, Marinette,’ he gazed at her softly. His heart stuttered when she returned his gaze with an adoring look of her own. 

‘It’s ours,’ he whispered. ‘It’s our song.’

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

Pidge and Keith from Voltron: Legendary Defender are definitely aroace.

ABSOLUTELY AGREED!! i know that aroace pidge was a fairly common headcanon anyway, but once i started seeing keith as aroace too i haven't gone back since. he's just... so aroace. (not gonna lie, i'm really happy they didn't give him a love interest haha)

[freedom-shamrock]

The Ladybug Special

Also over on AO3 Part 2   Part 3   Part 4

Inspired by @lnc2's Tumblr post

Thanks also go to @whatarubberchicken because I was stuck on a title!

Adrien walked swiftly toward Esplanade des Invalides.  It was warm and sunny, a beautiful day. And for the first time in what felt like months, possibly because it might have actually been months, he was finally able to meet up with his friends outside of school for something other than a project.  He'd missed so many of their planned get-togethers, including a few that he'd set up, thanks to his father's capriciousness and a million and one photoshoots.

But not today.

He took a deep breath, allowing the energy and scents of the city fill him. Nearly four blocks away from the river, he could still smell it. He'd found his senses heightened as Chat Noir, of course, but apparently long-term use of the miraculous had impacted him out of the suit as well.  He was glad it had been a gradual change, so he could adapt as it grew. Things that would have once been repulsive had gained layers of texture and interest. He still found stinky cheeses unpleasant, though.

He paused at a stoplight and pulled out his phone while he waited to cross.  Sending a quick text to Nino, he let his best friend know he was only a couple blocks away.  They were meeting up at André's cart, and because the glacier moved around so much, they'd planned to decide the rest of their afternoon from wherever that happened to be.  

Turning the corner, André's iconic cart came into view on the curved sidewalk bordering the bleuet de France roundabout. Nino and Alya were already there, holding hands, their heads tipped toward each other as they waited.  Marinette was nowhere to be seen, but that was hardly unusual. While she'd gotten better about getting to school on time in the last year, she still had a tendency to go missing during akuma attacks. If she wasn't actively helping evacuate their class, she was nowhere to be found. Alya mentioned that she suspected their friend had an anxiety disorder; until she wanted to share it, they would just support her as best they could.

Adrien broke into a jog, eager to get to his friends.  "Hey Nino, Alya. What a perfect day."

Alya laughed. "Look, the sunshine came out," she said, gesturing to his face. "I'd almost forgotten what it looked like."

"Pfft," Nino snorted. "It's nice to see you so happy, dude.  I think I finally understand what radiant truly means, looking at you in the sunshine, away from photographers and fans."

Adrien rolled his eyes.  "You two are ridiculous. Where's Marinette?  She never picks on me."

Alya coughed, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, "She wants to pick you up."  But that didn't seem right.

"Alas, my dude," Nino said with mock sadness and a slow shake of the head. "Your staunch protector is stuck at home, running the bakery counter while her parents prepare a huge order for some shindig at the Grand Palais.  I guess it came in late, but with a bonus Tom and Sabine couldn't turn down."

"Awww."  Adrien felt his joy droop a bit.  He'd really hoped to hang out with all three of them, not just because he'd heard Marinette's tales of woe at being a third wheel with the other two.  But he was determined to not let this setback bring him down. "Well, maybe we'll have to swing by the bakery later, see if she's up for a movie or something."

Alya grinned, looking positively predatory.  "Yes. Let's definitely do that." She looked over at André's  cart, where the line had dwindled to the last couple. "But until then, how about we get our ice cream."

"Yes!" Adrien agreed.  "I love this stuff. André's the best."

Adrien stood behind his friends as they ordered.  The André experience was half food service, half performance art, and he loved it.  There was something sweet and, dare he say, magical about it. As his friends stepped to the side, beaming at each other over their matched couple ice creams, he met the man's eyes.

"Ah!  Adrien, so good to see you."  André held his outstretched hands to his sides.  "Still coming to see me without your sweetheart, I see.  Perhaps this one will draw her out, yes?"

Trying not to blush, Adrien shrugged.  "I can hope."

Making a show out of waving his ice cream scoop about, before digging in and assembling Adrien's treat with a pronouncement that sounded suspiciously like a spell. "Strawberry with black chocolate chip! Blackberries for her hair, and blueberry ice-cream just like her sky blue stare!"

"Purrfect as always," Adrien said, thinking of his Lady as he reached for the treat.  "How do you always know?"

"Ah, ah, ah."  André grinned and wagged a finger at him.  "Trade secrets. Not to be shared."

Adrien understood all about keeping secrets, and honestly, given his work with the miraculous and Master Fu over the last two years, he was inclined to believe in magic.  "Have a great day, André." He walked over to where his friends waited.

"What did you get?" Alya asked, eyeing up Adrien's ice cream.

"My usual."  Adrien held it out for them to see before he scooped up a bit with the tiny spoon.  He closed his eyes and savored the first taste.

Nino took a step closer, going so far as to catch Adrien's wrist and hold it steady as he stared at it.   "Dude," he said gently.

"Yes?"  He felt unaccountably nervous all of a sudden.

"Dude."  The word was elongated and a sly grin spread over his face.  "Marinette, eh?"

Adrien glanced around, wondering if she'd been able to show after all. "Marinette?" he asked, uncertainly.  Alya's eyes had gone much wider than usual, and she'd slapped a hand over her mouth. He realized his friends were staring at his ice cream.  What did Marinette have to do with his ice cream. "Oh! You think my ice cream is Marinette themed," he said, understanding. "I guess I can see that, but no, it's…"  He froze. In the middle of preparing to reveal what they would see as an embarrassing fanboy crush, realization hit him like last week's akuma.

Blackberries for her midnight hair, worn in twin tails since they'd met.  Blueberries for her piercing blue eyes. Eyes he'd seen in the face of two amazing girls… one.  He corrected himself. Just one girl had those amazing eyes, even if she had two forms. The strawberry chocolate chip wasn't just her super suit.  It symbolized that she had the heart of a hero, that she was truly Ladybug, whether she was transformed or not.

He stared at his friends in shock.  "Oh my god," he whispered. "It is

@lnc2 - thanks for letting me play with this.  I hope it fills your need for an ice cream reveal.