#isaficlet

i take astrobiology as an elective, and today’s class had me crying about aliens, so i decided to write out my feelings. again. this is set around s1, e2 or e3-ish. please enjoy!

In which Hunk has a minor meltdown over verifiable proof of extraterrestrial life.

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It’s around the time when Hunk is wrist deep in green goo, relaxed in the almost meditative task of fixing the ‘food’ dispenser, that it hits him.

“Oh gosh, aliens exist,” he says.

Pidge, who’s sitting at a nearby table and working on Rover, squints at him.

“No duh,” she says.

Hunk drops his alien tool into the alien goo in the alien ship and plops down to sit on the floor.

“Aliens…exist,” he repeats, mind whirling with the actual, real, indisputable and undeniable confirmation of their existence, and before he has any say in it, he begins to cry.

“Whoa, hey!” There’s a scrape of alien chair against alien floor, then a small hand on his shoulder, awkwardly trying to soothe him. “Hunk, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” he wails, wiping at his tears.

Even the woosh of doors opening sounds alien, more digital than anything that’s been designed by humans, and the reminder of existential validation sets off another round of sobs.

“What’s all this? Pidge, what’s the matter with Hunk?” asks Coran, alien Paladin trainer, and Hunk has to lean against Pidge for support.

“I don’t know! He just said ‘aliens exist’ and then he started crying!”

Pidge sounds alarmed. It grounds Hunk to the present, helping him pull himself together because he didn’t want to scare Pidge.

“Sorry,” Hunk sniffs. “I’m not sad, it’s just…Coran, you’re real.”

“Of course I’m real, I’m standing right in front of you,” says Coran, all straightforward business, and it makes Hunk smile.

“No, I mean…aliens are real. Extraterrestrial life exists. It’s not even rare, it’s all over the galaxy, and we’re not—” His breath hitches as a fresh wave of tears roll down his cheeks. “We’re not alone.”

The confusion on Coran’s face clears up as Pidge’s gets worse.

“Ah…and your planet is so far away from the inhabited zones…there’s no chance of first contact using your primitive means,” Coran mutters to himself. “Whoo, that much pressure would be scary!”

“Let me get this straight,” Pidge starts. “You’re crying because…Earth isn’t alone in the universe?”

“Yes!” says Hunk.

“That’s ridiculous,” Pidge tells him. “Of course we were going to find extraterrestrial life. Do you know how many Earth-like exoplanets are supposed to be in our galaxy alone?”

“Billions,” says Coran.

“Billi—wait, what.”

Coran crouches down to join them on the floor, his hand warm on Hunk’s other shoulder.

“There isn’t any other life in your solar system, is there?” Coran asks.

Hunk shakes his head, still sniffling.

“We’ve looked on Mars and some of the moons of our gas giants, but…no,” Pidge says.

“So, for all you knew, you were the only example of life to ever arise?” Coran continues cheerfully. “And if your planet died out for whatever reason, all life would die with it and leave no chance for the universe to know itself before heat death makes the concept of existence meaningless?”

Pidge blinks, then frowns.

“I didn’t…think of it like that,” she says.

so during my internship, i had to review a corporation’s by-laws that had deliberately homophobic and transphobic language in it, which is kinda...yeah. later that night, can’t go back and a single pale rose came out like two giant, gay middle fingers from the universe, and i knew i had to write a little something in thanks :D (spoilers for the latest su eps, ofc)

In which Rose Quartz and Pearl collect themselves after changing everything.

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(THANKS PAST SELF!! you’re a real pal \o\ anyway, this is super dumb lol)

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Insomaniac was one of the weirder akuma they'd faced. And, after M. Pigeon, that was saying something.

With frazzled hair, bloodshot eyes, and a rumpled trench coat covering her equally rumpled dress pants and shirt, she looked less like a fallen hero and more like an anti-hero, straight out of some gritty, 80's comic book.

Ladybug didn't know what the story behind Insomaniac's akumatization was yet, but she kept ranting about beating someone named Denny and spouting increasingly bizarre ideas into an old-fashioned tape recorder.

Ideas that came to be as soon as she finished recording.

Chat Noir rushed in, trying to smack the tape recorder away with his baton, but Insomaniac blocked him with the cigarette holder she used, blowing smoke in his face.

"Concept: Chat Noir is just three tinier Chats stacked on top of each other," she mused into the recorder, taking advantage of Chat's wrinkly-nosed distraction. Ladybug lashed out with her yoyo as soon as she realized what was happening, but it was too late.

Insomaniac leaned forward, dodging the yoyo and toppling the unstable tower of Chat Noirs.

Plural.

Because Insomaniac changed Chat into three 5-year-old versions of himself.

Ladybug should be chasing the akuma as she ran away, off to spread more chaos through Paris. But, Ladybug was too busy staring at the yowling kitten pile.

Her kitten pile.

"Ow! That hurts!"

"You're stepping on my taaaaail!!"

"Get off me!!!"

Cold sweat started beading down the back of her neck as they looked up to her in teary unison.

"My laaaaaaaaady!" they cried as one, sniffling and rubbing at their eyes and wiping their noses, their tiny ears flattened against their heads, and Ladybug rushed over, dropping to her knees to gather them all in a hug.

Nain Rouge was an akuma that loved spooky stories and urban legends... and so did Chat Noir, if all the instructions he was rattling off to access the Otherworld (a parallel world that Nain Rouge created with his corrupted magic and escaped to) was any indication.

“—and if a lady enters from the fifth floor, do not look at her, do not speak to her, or she’ll take you, and I’d really rather not share my lady with anyone else—OH, and we’ll have to get on separate elevators, it won’t work otherwise—”

Ladybug gripped Chat Noir’s arm with shaking hands, ignoring his wince as she hissed, “Kitty, if you say you’re going to leave me here, alone, after telling me all that—that stuff, I’m going to make my own ghost story starring you.”

When his father sends him to do a shoot in Dubai, Adrien spends a lot of time ignoring the blistering heat by imagining Marinette brushing his bangs aside on the day he left, her fingers cool on his forehead.

When he’s in New York for Fashion Week and gets swept up in a battle involving honest-to-goodness faeries and wizards, Adrien has to talk Marinette down from booking the next flight out, trying to be stern over the aching, embarrassed warmth he feels when he sees her naked concern through the webcam.

When he touches down in Milan (to celebrate the grand re-opening of Gabriel’s Italian branch’s headquarters), Adrien’s vague daydreams of Marinette’s smile, full and bright with all the force of her loving heart, is blown away by the real thing jumping on him in the airport, laughing and sobbing and hugging and missing him just as dearly and fiercely as he did her.

"The Blues blocked off the building with the intel on Hawk Moth’s I.D. and all his dirty little secrets, so head west, then north, Chat Noir will be waiting for you—oh, and I have a little present for my favourite Runner.”

“Oh my,” Marinette’s voice crackled through the headset, amused and breathy, footsteps loud as she jumped from scaffold to rooftop edge, “What does the great Lady Wifi have for me today?”

Alya tapped a few keys on her keyboard, sitting back as the red-and-black-polka-dot colour scheme uploaded into Ladybug’s Runner Vision, and smiled in triumph at Marinette’s surprised bark of laughter.

“The rules are simple,” Max began, adjusting his glasses as he sat at the counter facing the conveyor belt, “We will disregard the colour of the plates, the contestant with the largest amount of plates wins, and the winner will have their tab paid in full.”

“IT’S ON!” Alix and Kim both yelled, their hands both shooting forward to snag the passing sushi.

An hour and a half later, Kim was groaning into the counter and Alix stared in mute horror as Max stood up on his chair to add to his plate tower (how could someone eat so much?!), right before grabbing another salmon maki roll off the belt.

Taking a bite of the macaron, one of the most difficult cookies in the world to make, Tikki chewed it carefully, savouring the taste of it, before finally announcing, “This is amazing—Adrien, you really should think about being a baker when you grow up!”

Adrien flushed with pleasure as he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, exposing one of his Miraculous as he told her, in a small voice, “Thanks, but… I have a job already… this is just a hobby…”

“You model because you want to make your father happy,” Tikki said, flying up to rub her cheek against her holder’s, smiling as he giggled, “And there’s nothing wrong with that… but you should think about what makes you happy too.”